“It wasn’t Ya-Bon.”
“Then who was it?”
“His accomplices.”
“Did they come back?”
“Yes; and they’ve strangled him.”
She pushed by and went towards the prisoner. He did not move. His face had the pallor of death. Round his neck was a red-silk string, twisted very thin and with a buckle at either end.
CHAPTER II
RIGHT HAND AND LEFT LEG
“One rogue less in the world, Little Mother Coralie!” cried Patrice Belval, after he had led the girl back to the drawing-room and made a rapid investigation with Ya-Bon. “Remember his name—I found it engraved on his watch—Mustapha Rovalaïof, the name of a rogue!”