“We are betrayed, Count,” cried Zoiloff in a voice of thunder, dragging in the man, who, shivering and white with fear, wriggled and struggled to free himself from his stern-faced captor.
A solemn hush fell on the room, while the trembling, panic-stricken wretch was placed in the midst of the men who closed round him. The silence was grim enough to have tried stronger nerves than his.
“What is the meaning of this?” I asked sternly, breaking the silence.
“I was not listening, my lord; indeed——”
“Don’t lie to me. What did you hear? Quick, speak the truth, for your life hangs on it.”
“I heard nothing, I swear I did not. I was only——”
“Silence!” I thundered, “if you have nothing but lies to tell.” He threw himself at my feet and begged for mercy.
“Speak the truth, then,” I said.
He glanced all round the ring of stern, hard-set faces and threw up his hands, and then clasped them before his face in despair.
“Gentlemen, you have seen for yourselves; what say you?” I asked.