“Then he isn’t there,” I said grimly.
I raised my voice and called loudly: “Don’t you dare to enter. I’ll shoot the first man that tries to.” Then to my companion: “You’d better crouch down in the corner here. There’ll be trouble the instant they are inside.”
But she had no lack of pluck and shook her head disdainfully. “You must not fire. If you shoot one of these men you will not be safe for an hour in the city.”
“I don’t appear to be particularly safe as it is,” I answered drily.
There was another pause; then a vigorous shove broke the chair I had placed to the door and half a dozen men rushed in.
As I raised my arm to fire, my companion caught it and stopped me.
For the space of a few seconds the scoundrels stared at us, their eyes gleaming in vicious malice and triumph. I read murder in them.
“Throw your weapon on the table there,” ordered one of them.
Then a thought occurred to me.
I made as if to obey; but, instead of doing anything of the sort, I extinguished the remaining candle, grabbed my companion’s arm, drew her to the opposite side of the room and, pushing her into a corner, stood in front of her.