“I am ready,” I said; “and now mark me. You will call up one of your men. What is that Captain’s name who is here with you?”
“Berschoff,” he answered, like a child saying a lesson.
“You will call up Captain Berschoff and order him to draw off his men, and to send your carriage, unattended, mind, up to the front door. You will be careful that the Captain does not see me. When the carriage comes, you will order your coachman to drive you as fast as he can travel to the village of Kutscherf. While you are speaking to Captain Berschoff my hand will be on your shoulder and my revolver at your head, and if you dare to falter in so much as a word or syllable of what I have told you, that moment will be your last on earth. Come!”
I held my revolver in hand as we left the gallery and went to the door of the house.
My breath came quickly in my fast-growing excitement, for I knew that a moment would bring the crisis on the issue of which all would turn. When once I had got rid of his men, his sense of helplessness would be complete, and my task would be lighter. But my fear was that in his cunning he might even dare to play me false in the belief that I should be afraid to make my threat good. He knew as well as I that to shoot him right in front of his captain would be an act fraught with consummate peril for me.
My heart beat fast as I unfastened the heavy door, opened it, and turning gripped him by the shoulder as he went forward on to the step and called to Captain Berschoff.
Then I pulled him back, closed the door to within a couple of inches, and, planting my foot to prevent it being opened wider, I pressed the barrel of the pistol to his head, as we stood listening to the hurried footsteps of the approaching officer.
CHAPTER XXX
THE PUSH FOR THE FRONTIER
“Did you call, General?” asked the captain; and as the voice came through the door I tightened the grip on my prisoner and pressed the barrel of the revolver harder against his head.
He hesitated, and when no answer was given the question was repeated.