She looked up at me and her eyes filled with tears. "How could you treat me so?" she muttered.
I felt the blood rush of a sudden through my veins, singing a veritable poem of joy and triumph. We were both about to die, but Marion loved me, and by that knowledge I was transformed on the instant from a weak half-broken creature into a life-loving and most desperate man. I glanced quietly about me.
While Dr. Vernet ate his breakfast he watched me, but without manifesting suspicion. Beudant stood behind his chair. Sir Charles and Fulton were in earnest converse twenty paces off.
I thought to myself: "I may never get a better chance. Only a coward will permit himself to be slaughtered unresisting.
"Beudant," said I aloud, "will you be good enough to get me another cup of coffee."
The negro nodded, and started to come round the table.
"Dr. Vernet," I said as carelessly as possible, "may I trouble you for the pepper-pot beside you?"
He bowed, and stretched out in order to render me the indicated service. In a flash I had caught his wrist in my left hand, and with my right I seized a heavy carafe of water and hurled it at his head. Next second I leaped across the table, caught him in my arms, when, guided by Vernet's own instinctive clutch to arm himself, I plunged my hand into his breast pocket and found a revolver.
I slipped to the floor and held the stunned and senseless body of Dr. Vernet before me as a shield. Sir Charles Venner and Dr. Fulton were already advancing towards me with drawn pistols.
"Stop!" I shouted.