"May it not happen by an accident?" he said. "An accident would be forgiven, and it would be so much safer."
The dim light shone on the keen blade the man had ripped eagerly from his girdle, and Ellerey doubted whether the chief's word would have power to save him; whether, indeed, it would be spoken. His salvation came from quite an unexpected quarter.
"Why that knife, Nicolai?" said a voice which caused the man to spring to his feet, and made Ellerey turn his head. "You would dare to disobey my commands, Nicolai? Stand aside. I have no faith in you."
The ruffian slunk back into the shadows of the room without a word. Ellerey was astonished that so mild a reprimand should have so great an effect. He looked at the dim figure, which the mean light of the lantern revealed; a woman's figure, closely cloaked from head to foot, while an ample scarf was wound round her head, and her face hidden by a silken mask. She had entered by a door somewhat behind him, and he and the man who was so desirous of killing him were the last to become aware of her presence.
"Have you found it?" she demanded, after a pause.
"No; he declares no token was given. At any rate, it is not upon him," answered the man who was in charge of the ruffians.
The woman took the lantern from the man who carried it, and, as she held it up, saw more distinctly the faces of the men about her.
"He has given you trouble, it seems. You bear marks of the conflict.
Eight of you."
"And two on the stairs who have not yet recovered," said one.
"He should be a good man, then, for a hazardous enterprise," and the woman bent down, holding the lantern low to look into Ellerey's face.