It was just one of those positions which a little impudence and bluff will carry when everything else may fail.
The leader of the men growled out a word, and the two revolvers were lowered. Then he turned to me.
“Who are you?”
“To the devil with your who are you? You can see who I am not, and that should be enough for you.”
“It is Vastic’s murderer,” said one of the men then, and murmurs of rage followed. I recognized the speaker as Vastic’s companion.
“You were with him, say what you saw,” I said.
“I saw you shoot him like a dog,” said the fellow.
“You lie, and you know it,” I cried sternly. “I did not shoot him until he was in the act of shooting me. He mistook me, as you all have, for the Emperor; and it was his life or mine.”
There was more angry murmuring at this, and I thought the men would break away from the leader’s control. I have never been nearer death than at that moment.
“Come down that we may see you better,” said the leader next.