"It is roasting—here," I observed.
He swallowed audibly, as a woman does recovering from tears. "Ah, well," he said. "Come in—here."
The blacks vastly relieved, it appeared, lowered their arms and gave me passage. Sir Robert, however, still blocked the door. I traversed the pylon and stood before him. "We can talk here," said he.
But I had no mind to be treated like that. I looked him in the face and talked to him like this: "I am not welcome. I can see it. But it matters nothing to me. I have rights. I gave you back your life. You made me a promise. You broke your promise. That relieves me of any need to be conventional. I am curious. I intend to satisfy my curiosity. Invite me into the cavern and show me what you have there to be seen. Or I shall put you aside and help myself. I can do so. Your blacks do not frighten me, armed or unarmed. As for you, pouf! Now choose!"
"Dr. Pinsent," said Sir Robert. (He was shaking like an aspen.) "In about ten minutes my dragoman is setting out for Cairo. If you will be good enough to bear him company he will hand you at the end of the journey my cheque for a thousand pounds."
"I ought to have told you," I murmured, "that it is a point of honour with me to keep my word."
"Two thousand," said Sir Robert.
"At all costs," said I.
"Five thousand!" he cried.
"You rich little cad!" I growled, and looked into the muzzle of a revolver.