“Nor did you, I expect. We came upon our comrade on the hills by chance this morning, too ill even to put a leg across a horse. It’s all that devil’s work. He wishes he’d had no hand in the black business, I can tell you. And so will you.”
“You can take her as soon as you like—the sooner the better. She’s caused enough trouble here,” I answered, and putting my cigar between my lips I sat down again and lolled back as if in lazy indifference.
But my indifference was not even skin deep. My object was to make them confident that there was no sort of resistance to be expected, and every nerve and sense in me was on the alert. I was making a kind of corner in risks just then, and should need all my wits to avoid being squeezed.
I was already fully resolved to use the three horses thus fortunately brought within my reach, and my first step was to get the present riders off their backs. The second would be to keep them off; and the third to put Mademoiselle, myself, and Karasch in their places.
Karasch had said that the “witch” could bring horses our way if she pleased; and when I looked his way and saw his eyes glance meaningly from me to the horses, I was half persuaded that he connected their presence with some supernatural agency.
The three men spoke together a moment and then the leader dismounted, handed the reins of his horse to one of the others, and came toward me.
“I daresay you mean to act all right and give up the prisoner,” he said, bluntly; “but while we stay here I’m going to make sure you can’t play any trick upon us by tying your hands behind you. Stand up.”
As he spoke he signed to the other two, who levelled their guns point blank at me.
It was a wholly unexpected turn and seemed to spell crisis. Not seeing for the moment what to do, I made no effort to rise, and he repeated his command.
“Get up,” he cried this time with an oath. “We’ve no time to waste over you.”