There was no need to confine him more closely.

He could not escape.
He bathed his hands and face, dried them on a fresh towel, and found his toilet table well supplied with conveniences.

In the next room some one was pacing the floor like a caged beast, growling and muttering angrily at every step.
Uncle John listened.

"The brigand seems to have more than one guest," he thought, and smiled at the other's foolish outbursts.
Then he caught a word or two of English that made him start.

He went to the door between the two rooms and threw it open, finding himself face to face with Count Ferralti..