Blenkiron never took his hands from his coat pockets. “Keep your distance,” he drawled in a new voice. “I’ve got you covered, and I’ll make a hole in your bullet head if you lay a hand on me.”
With an effort Stumm recovered himself. He rang a bell and fell to smiling. An orderly appeared to whom he spoke in Turkish, and presently a file of soldiers entered the room.
“I’m going to have you disarmed, gentlemen,” he said. “We can conduct our conversation more pleasantly without pistols.”
It was idle to resist. We surrendered our arms, Peter almost in tears with vexation. Stumm swung his legs over a chair, rested his chin on the back and looked at me.
“Your game is up, you know,” he said. “These fools of Turkish police said the Dutchmen were dead, but I had the happier inspiration. I believed the good God had spared them for me. When I got Rasta’s telegram I was certain, for your doings reminded me of a little trick you once played me on the Schwandorf road. But I didn’t think to find this plump old partridge,” and he smiled at Blenkiron. “Two eminent American engineers and their servant bound for Mesopotamia on business of high Government importance! It was a good lie; but if I had been in Constantinople it would have had a short life. Rasta and his friends are no concern of mine. You can trick them as you please. But you have attempted to win the confidence of a certain lady, and her interests are mine. Likewise you have offended me, and I do not forgive. By God,” he cried, his voice growing shrill with passion, “by the time I have done with you your mothers in their graves will weep that they ever bore you!”
It was Blenkiron who spoke. His voice was as level as the chairman’s of a bogus company, and it fell on that turbid atmosphere like acid on grease.
“I don’t take no stock in high-falutin’. If you’re trying to scare me by that dime-novel talk I guess you’ve hit the wrong man. You’re like the sweep that stuck in the chimney, a bit too big for your job. I reckon you’ve a talent for romance that’s just wasted in soldiering. But if you’re going to play any ugly games on me I’d like you to know that I’m an American citizen, and pretty well considered in my own country and in yours, and you’ll sweat blood for it later. That’s a fair warning, Colonel Stumm.”
I don’t know what Stumm’s plans were, but that speech of Blenkiron’s put into his mind just the needed amount of uncertainty. You see, he had Peter and me right enough, but he hadn’t properly connected Blenkiron with us, and was afraid either to hit out at all three, or to let Blenkiron go. It was lucky for us that the American had cut such a dash in the Fatherland.
“There is no hurry,” he said blandly. “We shall have long happy hours together. I’m going to take you all home with me, for I am a hospitable soul. You will be safer with me than in the town gaol, for it’s a trifle draughty. It lets things in, and it might let things out.”
Again he gave an order, and we were marched out, each with a soldier at his elbow. The three of us were bundled into the back seat of the car, while two men sat before us with their rifles between their knees, one got up behind on the baggage rack, and one sat beside Stumm’s chauffeur. Packed like sardines we moved into the bleak streets, above which the stars twinkled in ribbons of sky.