“I want you. Come along with me, and don’t say a word.”
Bart was ready enough, for he fancied Frank had decided at last to act against Morgan. But Merriwell led the way to the rooms occupied by Bertrand Defarge, and, by rare good luck, they found the French youth there alone.
Defarge was astonished when both Merriwell and Hodge entered without stopping to knock. He was more astonished when Hodge again closed and locked the door.
What were they after? With pale face, Defarge rose, and faced Frank Merriwell. Frank’s eyes met his squarely, and in their depths the accuser of Morgan saw something that made him shiver.
“What—what do you want?” he weakly asked.
“We have called to see you a few moments,” said Frank, in a calm, soothing tone. “Don’t be alarmed. We have not the least intention of harming you physically.” He had advanced to the table as he spoke, still keeping his eyes fastened on Bertrand’s, who seemed to feel a strange power creeping over him and pervading his entire being. “Let’s sit down here by the table where we can talk,” urged Frank.
Defarge sank into a chair, still staring at Frank’s eyes. As the French youth sank, so sank Merriwell, and Hodge saw them sit looking at each other over the table. Bart held his breath, wondering what was to follow.
Frank seemed to put his very soul into that look, and Defarge gradually paled and took on a limp and lifeless expression, although he sat there looking at Merry.
With a gentle motion, Frank leaned over and lightly touched Bertrand on the forehead. Defarge remained motionless[motionless], without winking.
“It is well,” said Merry. “You must now answer my questions faithfully and truly. You[You] will do so!”