“Did I speak the truth just now when I convicted Crow out of his own mouth? I did. I proved it. And surely Melun has now condemned himself in his turn.
“Do you think that there would be all this fuss over a bundle of papers if there weren't more in the matter than he ever intended to tell you? Not a bit of it.”
The men murmured angry assent, and Westerham felt that he was at last winning through.
“Do you think,” he went on boldly, “that I am the kind of man who deserves to be tortured to reveal the truth? I say no; and so will you.”
Again the men nodded.
“This fellow Melun says that I have betrayed him and you. Let him prove it. I tell him that ‘the papers are not where they were.’ He knows where he placed them; let him go and see. I am content to abide here until he returns.”
It was now the turn of the bullet-headed man to speak.
“Get him to his feet,” he said, pointing to Melun.
Melun was dragged up, dazed and bleeding.
“You will do nothing to this gentleman,” said the bullet-headed man, waving his hand with some deference towards Westerham, “until you have cleared yourself. You will have to see if the papers are gone. But you don't go alone—not much!”