From one of his pockets the old man drew a revolver and held it up, resting the barrel on a crooked arm, and aligning the sights at an imaginary enemy.
"You two, my comrades, must help me in this just vengeance."
"Not much," said Haigh, peering at him coolly through half-shut eyes. "I've put my name down for a little gentle highway robbery; but if ordinary murder is to be added to the scheme, you may transfer me to the retired list. I'm not burdened with many scruples, but making cold meat of a gentleman for the small crime of sticking to his own property happens to be one of them."
"And the woman who has helped him, and who has also put shame on us?"
"My dear fellow, you can't expect me to indulge in fisticuffs with a lady—especially one with such a catholic taste in Majolica lustreware."
Taltavull stamped and swore afresh. "And this insult—will your cold northern blood permit you to swallow that unresented?"
"My swallowing power has its limits, Mr. Taltavull; so slow down. There's an old adage about thieves quarrelling, and we three should do best by not falling out with one another. Come, let's try back a bit. What the devil is this eighteen-cornered insult you're so furious about?"
Taltavull thrust the letter into his hand, and stalked away to the window muttering in his beard.
I looked over Haigh's shoulder, and read with him:—
"Fonda Forget-what, Alcudia, Mallorca,
"Tuesday morning, 1.37 a.m.