I put my eye to the chink. On the lowest step I saw three dim figures. I cocked my revolver. Antoinette hastily laid her hand on mine.
“You may kill one,” said she. “But what then?”
A voice came from outside—a voice that spoke perfect English.
“Mr. Rassendyll,” it said.
I made no answer.
“We want to talk to you. Will you promise not to shoot till we’ve done?”
“Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Detchard?” I said.
“Never mind names.”
“Then let mine alone.”
“All right, sire. I’ve an offer for you.”