"No, no! not that!" Klein almost shrieked.
Fernando smiled grimly. He might have been one of his own hard-hearted ancestors, presiding at the Spanish Inquisition.
"I fear to go!" cried Klein, his terror stamped on every feature. "They will kill me! I know they will!"
Fernando laughed aloud.
"You will most certainly be killed," said he, "if you refuse to go. The Black Dog has marked you for his own."
At these words the spy fell down upon his knees at Harry Urquhart's feet.
"Keep me with you!" he pleaded. "Give me your protection! It is to the advantage of those men to kill me. They brought me here to do away with my life. They do not intend that I shall live to claim my share of the treasure, if they should ever find it."
Harry, somewhat roughly, told the man to get to his feet. Klein was an arrant coward. Harry felt little pity for the man; yet he could not find it in his heart to support Fernando's heartless verdict.
"You have little right to demand our sympathy," said he. "You are an enemy to my country and a spy; you are even a traitor to the rascals whom formerly you were pleased to serve. You have merited the most severe penalty which a state of war allows."
He was about to go on, when the man, losing all control of himself, seized him by both hands and begged him to be merciful.