“What does this mean?” murmured Gyuri, turning pale.
“It means that the best thing for you to do is to stand up against that wall and fold your arms on your breast,” said Muller firmly. He took a revolver from his pocket and laid it beside him on the turning-lathe. The young giant, cowed by the sight of the weapon, obeyed the commands of this little man whom he could have easily crushed with a single blow.
Dr. Orszay sank down on the chair beside the door. Muller, now completely master of the situation, turned to the insane man who stood looking at him in a surprise which was mingled with admiration.
“And now, my dear Cardillac, you must tell us of your great deeds here,” said the detective in a friendly tone.
The unfortunate man bent over him with shining eyes and whispered: “But you’ll shoot him first, won’t you?”
“Why should I shoot him?”
“Because he won’t let me say a word without beating me. He is so cruel. He sticks pins into me if I don’t do what he wants.”
“Why didn’t you tell the doctor?”
“Gyuri would have treated me worse than ever then. I am a coward, sir, I’m so afraid of pain and he knew that—he knew that I was afraid of being hurt and that I’d always do what he asked of me. And because I don’t like to be hurt myself I always finished them off quickly.”
“Finished who?”