“They would not have killed me,” she cried, breathlessly. They were moving rapidly along the level roadway now, and his grip on her wrist was like a clasp of iron.
“To save themselves? Of course, they would—as they would a dog!” he said.
“They are my friends, and they are the best, the truest in the world,” she gasped, eager to keep the promise of protection made in the farewell note.
“You think they are, madam, but how could they treat you as they have if they are friends?” He had turned into the wood, and it was necessary to proceed more cautiously on account of the darkness. She realized that she had erred in saying they were friends, and turned cold with apprehension.
“I mean, they treated me well—for criminals,” she managed to say.
“Criminals!” he snarled. “Bah! Of course they are criminals of the worst kind, but they will never be punished.”
“I'm afraid they are so clever that no one will ever find out who they really are.”
He stopped with a lurch, and she could feel that he was looking at her in amazement.
“I know who they are, and you know them, too,” he said, slowly. “Perhaps nobody else knows, but we know that my Lord and Lady Saxondale and the two Americans were your abductors. The man I dumped into the ravine was that little villain Turk.”
Her heart almost stopped beating with the shock of knowing that nothing could now shield her captors from exposure.