Those closer to the Czar hurled themselves forward; but they had hesitated a moment when the count sprang forward and they too would have been too late.
In all that room, among the score of officers and soldiers, there was only a single soul who had the presence of mind, the courage and the alertness to act in time.
Jack sprang forward.
In spite of the fact that Count Blowinski had seemed, apparently, resigned to his fate, there was something in the man’s eye that had warned Jack and told him to be on his guard.
Even as he leaped Jack knew he was taking a desperate chance. The thought flashed through his mind that even he would be too late to save the Czar. But there was not a moment of hesitation; not a second of indecision on his part.
Straight between the Czar and Count Blowinski Jack sprang, at the same time raising a hand to catch the upraised arm, the hand of which grasped the knife in a firm grip.
But in his haste the lad had not gauged the distance accurately. True he had interposed his body between that of the Czar and the would-be assassin, but he failed to grasp the upraised arm.
The moment that he realized he had missed, Jack swerved a bit, and the knife, descending, slashed his right shoulder. Had he not swerved it had been his heart.
Before Count Blowinski could move to strike again, Jack, whirling suddenly, seized the arm in his left hand and clung to it tightly, his now useless right arm hanging by his side.
The Czar was safe.