'Why else have you now half murdered your fellow? Verily are you an alien through and through, for no man born on these shores would so basely betray a trust.'
'Nor I,' he got out, and rather wished they would strike with their hands.
'You lie!' said his accuser; 'or robbery, or murder, or treachery you intend—or all. Own your worst; try it; this time openly, fairly: your brute strength upon two who are not your match: on your mate damaged from your foul handling: on an old man, whose gold you have taken, the trust of whose life you have accepted.'
He could not attempt a protest, though his heart was like to break enforced to silence. The other advanced in temerity with an order.
'You have a knife. Give it up.'
He obeyed without a word. Then the two made no reserve, but with a show of bare steel proved his temper. He did not lift a hand.
Lois might come to hear of his transgression: she would never know how hard it was to atone, because they dawdled so cruelly, because he knew they would bungle so cruelly: he did not think either had force to drive a blade home at a stroke.
The Adventurer paused. Here without madness was a guilty wretch cowed at detection, abject as a wolf in a pit!
'We would not your blood on our hands, yet to no oath of yours may our lives trust.'
'I would not offer it.'