Dieusy opened the door, put in his head, and said, “It’s Mademoiselle Kritchnoff.”
“Collar her! ... Here’s the warrant! ... collar her!” shouted Guerchard, with savage, triumphant joy.
“Never! You shan’t touch her! By Heaven, you shan’t touch her!” cried Lupin frantically; and he sprang like a tiger at Guerchard.
Guerchard jumped to the other side of the table. “Will you accept, then?” he cried.
Lupin gripped the edge of the table with both hands, and stood panting, grinding his teeth, pale with fury. He stood silent and motionless for perhaps half a minute, gazing at Guerchard with burning, murderous eyes. Then he nodded his head.
“Let Mademoiselle Kritchnoff wait,” said Guerchard, with a sigh of deep relief. Dieusy went out of the room.
“Now let us settle exactly how we stand,” said Lupin, in a clear, incisive voice. “The bargain is this: If I give you the pictures, the tapestry, the cabinets, the coronet, and the death-certificate of the Duke of Charmerace, you give me your word of honour that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff shall not be touched.”
“That’s it!” said Guerchard eagerly.
“Once I deliver these things to you, Mademoiselle Kritchnoff passes out of the game.”
“Yes,” said Guerchard.