His host went utterly livid.
Zuloaga looked down at his hands, as if expecting unguessable things of them. And then he shrugged, and said harshly:
"I have, Señor. So you see that Isabella, who does not know, is asking me to risk, not only my life, but her honor."
Bell said nothing for a moment. He was a little pale.
"And your honor?" he asked quietly.
The pallor on the face of the Señor Jaime Zuloaga was horrible. He tried to speak, and could not. He stood up, and managed to say:
"So much I will risk, because you have been my guest. Until to-morrow morning you are safe, unless the Señor Francia has his spies within my own house. I—I will attempt, even to procure a boat. But—"
Something made Bell turn. The major-domo was moving quickly out of sight. Like a flash Bell was upon him, and like a flash a knife came out.
Bell's host gasped. The fact that his servant had spied was more than obvious, and he had spoke treason against The Master. He leaned against the table, sick and trembling and mumbling of despair, while there were crashes in the room into which Bell had plunged, while bodies thrashed about on the floor, and while stertorous breathing grew less, and stopped....