A nameless dread sent chills to the hearts which had begun to thump wildly in the reaction.  What did he mean?

“What are you going to do with us?” groaned the horrified mother.  The carriage was now moving rapidly over the pavement.

“In due time you may know, Madame; you have only to be patient.  For the moment, it is necessary that you keep perfectly quiet.  Although you are a woman, I shall have to kill you if you disobey my commands.  We take desperate chances to-night in the coup which shall make all Europe ring with the crowning act of the great diamond robbers, as you are pleased to call us; and we can brook no resistance.  You see my revolver, Monsieur, it is on a direct line with your breast.  You are Americans, I am told, and your people are noted for coolness, for discretion under trying circumstances.  Your women are as brave as your men.  I merely ask you to call your courage—­”

“You shall not go on, monster,” exclaimed Mrs. Garrison, fiercely.  “Do you know who we are?  Surely you are not inhuman enough to—­”

“Madame!  I warn you for the last time.  You must be reasonable.  Resistance, argument, pleading will avail you nothing.  If you desire to discuss the situation calmly, sensibly, you may do so, but you are to go only so far as I see fit.  Will you remember?” There was no mistaking the earnestness of the speaker.  Mrs. Garrison realized that she was absolutely powerless, completely at the mercy of the bold intruder.

“What must we pay, then, for our freedom?  Name the price, man.  Order your men to drive us to St. Gudule’s and anything you ask is yours.  I implore you to be generous.  Think, Monsieur, think what this means to us!” she said, desperately.

“I am not at liberty to dictate terms, Madame.  It is only my duty to carry out my part of the transaction; another will make terms with you.”

“But when?  When?  We cannot be delayed a moment longer.  The hour has already passed when my daughter should be before the altar.  For God’s sake, name your price.  I will pay, I will pay,” sobbed the half-crazed woman

“Sir, do you know what you are doing?” demanded the quaking old man, finding his voice at last.  “You must listen to reason.  Think of yourself, if not of us.  What will become of you when you are caught?  Pause in this awful crime and think—­”

“You are kind; Monsieur, to advise me, but it is too late.”

“Will you take us to St. Gudule’s?” cried the elder woman, on the verge of collapse.  “I will give you all you ask, Monsieur.”

“Ten thousand dollars is yours if you abandon this damnable—­” began Mr. Van Dykman.

“It will avail nothing to offer me money,” interrupted the master of the situation, harshly.  “That is the end of it.  Believe me, money is not what we are after to-night.  To-morrow, perhaps, it may tempt us.”

“What do you mean to do with us?” cried the girl, horror in her voice.