“I will do it. I am tired of an evil life, tired of hiding, tired of fear, tired of hate. I wish to come back and live among men.”
“Well spoken. And Marti?”
“I shall be pardoned, absolutely, when I bring him here?”
“Absolutely. When may we expect him?”
“Now.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
“What! To-day? This Marti ——”
“You are looking at him.”
Tacon started, and his glance fell on a couple of pistols that lay on the desk before him. He always kept them there, primed and loaded. Marti smiled, drew from beneath his coat two larger ones, handsomely mounted with silver, and placed them on the desk. “I am through with them,” said he.