Jakoub could see the hammer rise. He laid a knife on the table.
“It was but to cut the strings, effendi,” he said with a return of his smile. I slowly relaxed my pressure on the trigger, the hammer sank again, and I cocked the thing with my thumb as Edmund had shown me how to do. Jakoub watched me.
“You know what will happen if I pull the trigger again?”
“I have used a revolver,” he sneered.
“Sit down on that chair at the end of the table.”
He obeyed, and I took a chair at the near end. I propped the pistol on a pile of books, so that it was impossible to miss him if he moved.
“Why do you threaten me, effendi? I mean you no harm.”
“Why have you stolen into my room at night?”
“I have but come for my property. You have taken it from me unjustly. I knew you would not give it to me. I wished for peace to be between us. I am a very good, very peaceful Arab.”
In spite of myself I smiled at his remark, and at my smiling I saw to my surprise a new respect and fear of me awaken in Jakoub’s eyes.