The masked mystery seemed quite overcome. She had received Charron’s description of the spy, and she explained how she had come to settle on Frank Merriwell as the one.
When they told her Wynne was the spy, she seemed eager to slay him with her own hand. They grasped her, and held her back, whereupon she grew angry, and flung herself out of the room.
“She is an admirable actress,” thought the watching boy. “Too bad she is connected with such wretches as these. Why, she could become another Bernhardt!”
He knew that she would not be long away, and he was right. She returned just as Lenoir was once more starting for the cellar to see what kept Durant so long.
“He is cleaning up the blood-stains, so the police can find no sign if they come upon us,” declared the masked girl.
Frank prepared for the rush, and then he was staggered by a sudden thought.
What if he escaped? They would be sure to kill Wynne with great haste. He would not be given time to arouse the police and bring them back to rescue the young newspaper correspondent.
For a moment the boy hesitated, and then a most desperate resolution formed in his mind. He tore open the door, leaped into the room, shot toward the table, and snatched up one of the bombs.
So quickly was this done that the boy was given an opportunity to retreat to the door that led toward the street and freedom. In that doorway he paused, the bomb held high above his head.
Vaugirad held a pistol, which was pointed straight at the boy.