I crept on down the stairs, pausing now and then in the half hope that Gassen would return, when I should have a double advantage in my attack--surprise and a greater height from which to strike.
But I reached the door leading to the water front before I saw him.
He was standing on the edge of the wharf, his figure silhouetted sharply against the sheen of the gliding river, shading his eyes as he looked anxiously up stream for some sign of those he was awaiting so impatiently.
I was on the point of making my rush for him, when he turned and looked straight in my direction. I thought he saw me and held my breath in expectation of his attack. But I had presence of mind enough to remain as still as a stone figure.
Then he turned away; and I concluded that I had been too deep in the shadow of the doorway for his eyes to pierce the darkness.
He moved off toward the end of the wharf, and then I saw him start and stare down intently at the river below.
He had discovered the boat which I had fastened there, and he stooped down to examine it closely. Intent upon this he did not hear my steps as I crossed toward him, and when he rose I was close to him and had him covered with my revolver.
His surprise was so complete that he all but staggered backwards into the river. "The Englishman!" he exclaimed with a foul oath, as his hand went to his pocket.
"You won't move," I said in a low tense tone.
He recovered his coolness on the instant. "You daren't fire here," said he.