This was from Karasch, very loudly and angrily spoken, and the man turned from me to him.
“What do you mean?”
“What I say. This was my doing from the first. I set your man free to go and find you and bring you here; but this shan’t be done.”
The interruption was very timely, and I took advantage by it to edge away until I was sheltered from the guns by the leader’s body.
“What Karasch says is right enough. But you need not say any more, Karasch. There won’t be any more talk about binding me or anyone else.”
“By the Cross, but there will!” cried the leader fiercely, and was turning to give an order to his companions when I gripped him by the shoulder and held him.
“Don’t move. You’re just in the line between those two guns and me, and I can talk all the more comfortably while you stay there.” Karasch laughed, and the man tried in vain to wriggle out of my grip. “I’m covering you all the time with my revolver, and if you get away I shall shoot. You’ve been a deal nearer death all the while than you thought,” and I showed the ugly little muzzle above the edge of my pocket.
The argument carried conviction. He ceased to struggle, and changed colour.
“Tell those men of yours to throw their guns on the ground. They might go off by accident, and I’m not taking that kind of risk any longer.”
He hesitated, and I showed him a bit more of my pocket argument.