The Frenchman sat as though in a stupor, and seemingly gave no attention to the details of the hunt, but he sprang to his feet in sheer fright when Steingall walked up to him and said sternly:
"Now, Antoine Lamotte, listen to what I have to say."
"I am betrayed, then?" snarled the man viciously, though his voice went off into a curious yelp of agony as a twinge reminded him of Brodie's vigorous aim with half a brick.
"Yes, the game is up. I know your confederates, and you will be confronted with them before daybreak.… No, I am not bluffing. That is not my way. Their names are Gregor Martiny and Ferdinand Rossi. Now are you satisfied?"
Lamotte sank back into his chair. His features were wrung with pain, but the momentary excitement vanished, and his manner grew sullen again.
"If you know so much I can tell you nothing," he growled.
"No. You can give me little or no information I do not possess already. But, unless you are more fool than knave, you can at least try to save your own miserable life."
"How?"
"By a full confession. Did you know that Martiny and Rossi meant to kill Mr. Hunter?"
"No, I swear it."