"So he's your spark, is he?" Joseph observed slowly, his eyes blinking as he leaned a little forward.
"On the contrary," Pamela replied, "I have never met him. However, that's beside the point. Do I have the key of that chapel?"
"You do not."
"Have you got it?"
"Right here," Joseph assented, dangling it before her eyes.
"I think it's a fair bargain I'm offering you," she reminded him. "You lose the key and keep your place. You only have to keep your mouth shut and nothing happens."
"Nothing doing," the negro declared shortly. "Keys as important as this ain't lost. If I part with it, I get the chuck, and I probably get into the same mess as the others. If I keep it—"
"If you keep it," Pamela interrupted, "you will probably stand with your back to the light in the Tower within the next few days. They've left off being lenient with spies over here."
He looked at her, and there were things in his eyes which few women in the world could have seen without terror. Pamela's lips only came a little closer together. She pressed the inside of the ring upon her third finger, and a ray of green fire seemed to shoot forward.
"I guess I'm up against it," he growled, taking a step forward. "I'll have something of what's coming to me, if I swing for it."