"Have been lying throughout and must take the consequences. You have thrust your head into the lion's jaw. Hold!"
Seeing that Hyde had thrust his one hand beneath his blouse, seeking, no doubt, for some concealed weapon, Hobson suddenly struck a bell on the table before him.
Four men rushed in.
"Seize him before he can use his arm! Seize him, and unmask him!"
The ruffians, laying violent hands on Hyde, tore off his blouse and dragged the wig with its elaborate curls from his head. In the struggle he gave a sharp cry of pain. They had touched too roughly the still helpless arm which hung in its sling beneath the blouse.
"Ah! I knew I could not be mistaken. It is you, then, Rupert Gascoigne! I thought I recognised you from the first, although it is years and years since we met."
"Not quite, villain! Cowardly traitor, murderer, despoiler of the dead!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"That I saw you at your craven work just after the Alma; you ought to have been shot then. The world would have been well rid of a miscreant."
"Pretty language, truly, Mr. Gascoigne! I must strive to deserve it."