The terrible expression on the girl’s face checked him; she said, slowly:
“It is we others who have been betrayed, it seems. It is we who are trapped here. They’ve got us all—every one of us. Oh, my God!—every one of us—at last!”
She lifted her haggard face and stared at the increasing light which was turning the window panes a sickly yellow.
“With sunrise comes war,” she said in a stunned voice, as though to convince herself. “We are caught here in this house. And Kestner and Weishelm and Breslau and I––” she trembled, framing her burning face in slim hands that were like ice. “Do you understand that Brandes and Curfoot, bought by England, have contracted to deliver us to a French court martial?”
The men looked at her in silence.
“Kestner and Breslau knew they had been bought. One of our own people witnessed that treachery. But we never dreamed that these traitors would venture into this house tonight. We should have come here ourselves instead of going to the Turkish Embassy. That was Mahmud Damat’s meddling! His messenger insisted. God! What a mistake! What a deathly mistake for all of us!”
She leaned for a moment against one of the iron pillars which supported the attic roof, and covered her face with her hands.
After a moment, Neeland said:
“I don’t understand why you can’t leave this house 374 if you are in danger. You say that there are men downstairs who are waiting to kill us—waiting only for Kestner and Breslau and Mahmud Damat to arrive.”
She said faintly: