“Shoot!” cried Frank, in French. “When you fire, I shall drop this bomb, and we will all be blown into a thousand pieces! It means death for every one of us!”
The men cowered and shrank back, their faces blanching. They saw that the boy had snatched up the bomb which Novesky had proclaimed the most deadly of the collection. If it were dropped to the floor, it must explode.
“Upon him!” hissed Lenoir. “Tear it from his hand!”
“Stop!” commanded the Russian Nihilist. “It cannot be done! The bomb will fall, and that will mean death and destruction! Hold a moment!”
They cowered, and then Montparnasse tried to creep toward the lad.
“Back!” shouted Frank, fiercely. “Keep back, or by the eternal skies! I will cast this thing to the floor!”
Montparnasse fell back, cursing beneath his breath. Vaugirad whirled on Mademoiselle Mystere.
“How is it you said the boy was dead, and he is here alive?” he demanded. “Have you gone mad, girl?”
“There is no time for words,” came harshly from Frank Merriwell’s lips. “I am not dead, but very much alive, as you can see. However, I am quite ready to die with the rest of you, if you do not obey me in everything. Do you understand?”
They were silent. Their faces showed great fear and fury. They could not understand how this situation had come about, and so they were still somewhat bewildered.