Jean le Roi sprang at him like a cat, his legs off the ground, one arm around the other’s neck, and something gleaming in his right hand. Nothing but Macheson’s superb strength saved him. He risked being throttled, and caught Jean le Roi’s right arm in such a grip that he swung him half round the room. The bone snapped, and the knife fell from the nerveless fingers. But Macheson let go a second too soon. Jean le Roi had all the courage and the insensibility to pain of a brute animal. He stretched out his foot, and with a trick of his old days, tripped Macheson so that he fell heavily. Jean le Roi bent over him on his knees, breathing heavily, and with murder in his eyes. Macheson scarcely breathed! He lay perfectly still. Jean le Roi staggered to his feet and turned towards Wilhelmina.
“You see, madame,” he said, seizing her by the wrist, “how I shall deal with your lovers if there are any more of them. No use tugging at that bell. I saw to that before you came! I’m used to fighting for what I want, and I think I’ve won you!”
He caught her into his arms, but suddenly released her with a low animal cry. He knew that this was the end, for he was pinioned from behind, a child in the mighty grip which held him powerless. “You are a little too hasty, my friend,” Macheson remarked. “I was afraid I might not be so quick as you on my feet, so I rested for a moment. But no man has ever escaped from this grip till I chose to let him go. Now,” he added, turning to Wilhelmina, “the way is clear. Will you go outside and rouse the servants? Don’t come back.”
“You are—quite safe?” she faltered.
“Absolutely,” he answered. “I could hold him with one hand.”
Jean le Roi lifted his head. His brain was working swiftly.
“Listen!” he exclaimed. “It is finished! I am beaten! I, Jean le Roi, admit defeat. Why call in servants? The affair is better finished between ourselves.”
Wilhelmina paused. In that first great rush of relief, she had not stopped to think that with Jean le Roi a prisoner, and herself as prosecutrix, the whole miserable story must be published. He continued.
“Give me money,” he said, “only a half of what you offered me just now, and you shall have your freedom.”
Wilhelmina smiled. Something of the joy of a few hours ago came faintly back to her.