"You are alone, let me repeat, and absolutely at my mercy."
A dagger flashed from beneath his cloak. With a cry Mrs. Breakspear clasped Idris in her arms to shield him from a possible attack. Yet even amid her fear it did not escape her notice that the hand which held the weapon was small, white, and decorated with a diamond ring.
"Listen to the voice of prudence," continued the stranger. "It is within my power to despatch you both, and to search these apartments for the ring which you admit is somewhere here. I am quite prepared to go to that extreme rather than return without it. You will, therefore, see the wisdom of surrendering the ring: you thus save your life and that of your child: I save time and trouble—an arrangement mutually advantageous."
Something in his tone convinced Mrs. Breakspear that he was quite capable of carrying out his threat.
"You will find the ring in an ebony case in the top drawer of that cabinet. Take it: and if it should bring upon you the curse which it has brought upon me and mine, you will live to rue this day."
The man smiled, put up his weapon, walked towards the oak press, and in a moment more the casket was in his hands.
"Yes, this is it," he murmured in a tone of satisfaction, as he drew the ring from the case, and scrutinized the runic inscription.
"May one ask," he continued, concealing the relic upon his person, "how you came to deny all knowledge of it at the trial of your husband?"