‘I am Lord Wheatley,’ I answered.
‘But did you not fly to the—?’ He stopped.
‘To the passage?’ said I. ‘No, I came here. I was trying to escape. I came in while Madame here was asleep and hid behind the curtain.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said she. ‘It is so, Kortes, it is as he says; and then Vlacho came—’
‘And,’ said I, ‘when the lady had agreed to go with Vlacho, Vlacho came to the window to call you; and by misadventure, sir, he came on me behind the curtain. And—won’t you see whether he’s dead?’
‘Kill him, Kortes, kill him!’ cried Demetri, fiercely and suddenly, from the window.
Kortes turned round.
‘Peace!’ said he. ‘The man has yielded. Do I kill men who have yielded? The Lady of the island and my Lord Constantine must decide his fate; it is not my office. Are you armed, sir?’
It went to my heart to give up that last treasured shot of mine. But he was treating me as an honourable man. I handed him my revolver with a bow, saying:
‘I depend on you to protect me from that fellow and the rest till you deliver me to those you speak of.’