“Well—yes; if you think fit to put it so plainly,” replied the other, with a short little cough, followed by a snap like the opening and shutting of a snuff-box.
“But—but in the name of the Eleven Thousand Virgins, why wait for the man to run away? Why not give him his liberty, and get rid of him pleasantly?”
“Because—ahem!—because, you see, Colonel Bernhard, it would not then be possible to pursue him,” said the stranger, drily.
“To pursue him?”
“Just so—and to shoot him.”
I heard the sound of a chair pushed violently back; and my father's shadow, vague and menacing, started up with him, and fell across the door.
“What?” he shouted, in a terrible voice. “Are you taking me at my word? Are you offering me the hangman's office?”
Then, with a sudden change of tone and manner, he added:—
“But—I must have misunderstood you. It is impossible.”
“We have both altogether misunderstood each other, Colonel Bernhard,” said the stranger, stiffly. “I had supposed you would be willing to serve the State, even at the cost of some violence to your prejudices.”