“You are entirely mistaken,” declared Arnaud calmly. “I was not the first to speak with Marcus Holtmann. Others learned his secret before I did. It was they who planned the attack. I came here alone, to prevent it.”
“You came here to prevent the attack!” cried Motkin in an incredulous tone. “You expect me to believe such a statement?”
“I am speaking facts,” declared Arnaud solemnly. “I learned all from Holtmann. A plot was designed to steal the Romanoff gems. With my knowledge of those jewels and their history” — as Arnaud paused, a strange, knowing gleam appeared in his eyes — “I was not concerned with what might become of them.
My only object was to prevent futile bloodshed. I came here with the sole purpose of stopping what I considered unnecessary slaughter.”
The words were uttered so directly that Motkin became perplexed. He did not know whether to believe or disbelieve. Balked in his inquiry, he shrewdly directed another form of question.
“What is your connection with Michael Senov?” he asked.
“I have never heard of Michael Senov,” responded the person called Arnaud.
Again, Motkin was puzzled. Frankness was evident in Arnaud’s tone. Motkin was used to dealing with shrewd schemers, and he was a keen detector of suave replies to leading questions. Here he was confronted with a subject who seemed to rely on simple, direct statements.
Yet the truth seemed incredible to Ivan Motkin. In his own mind, he could not grasp the thought that any one could be so foolhardy as to thrust himself into the midst of such a terrible fray, with the sole purpose of protecting human life. Motkin thought he saw a weakness in his prisoner’s argument. He laughed coarsely.
“You say you wished to prevent bloodshed,” asserted Motkin. “Why, then, did you fight the soldiers who tried to capture you?”