"My advantage? Can it be he? Did he give his name?"
"Herod Voltaire!"
"Voltaire! Never! He dare not come near me; I'm his master for many reasons—he dare not come! But—"
He checked himself, as if he were telling the Italian too much. The host then left the room, while Kaffar went on with his supper.
I opened the door noiselessly and went into the room, and said distinctly, "Good evening, Mr. Kaffar."
He looked up and saw me. Never, I think, did I see so much terror, astonishment, mingled with hate, expressed on a human face before.
He made a leap for the door. I caught him, and held him fast.
"No, Mr. Kaffar, you must not escape," I said, leading him back to his chair.
"You cannot—kill me—here!" he gasped. "I mean no wrong—to you. I—Ah, you've followed me for revenge."
For an answer I went to the door and locked it.