The tension on Gentle Annie’s nerves, which during this scene had been strung to the highest pitch, had now become too great to be borne silently.
“Don’t, don’t!” she cried. “For God’s sake, for my sake, stop! stop!”
“Don’t be frightened, my dear,” said the goldsmith, without taking his eye off his rival and antagonist. “If there’s to be trouble between this man and me, you can’t make or mar it. Now, mister, kindly drop your revolver on the floor.”
The man did as he was bid, and the heavy falling of iron sounded loud through the otherwise silent room.
“Right turn. Quick march.” Tresco rose slowly, still covering his man. “Open the door for him, my dear!”
“It’s a trap! I’m trapped by the woman,” cried Carnac, glaring awfully at Gentle Annie. “You slut, give me back my ring.”
“Walk straight out, mister,” said the goldsmith, quietly, “and don’t call the lady names, or you’ll repent it. She happens to be my particular friend. And let me tell you before you go, that the one thing that will save you from the hangman’s noose is that you don’t set foot inside this door again. D’you hear?”
“Yes,” said the robber.
“You understand my meaning?”
“Perfectly.”