“I shall do nothing of the kind!” snarled Melun.
“You won't, eh?” said Westerham. “Well, we will see.
“You know,” he added, still whispering, “that Lord Penshurst is perfectly acquainted with your identity. The guests are in ignorance, and therein lies your safety. But how many would recognise you if they could see your face?”
Melun shot a vindictive look through his mask at Westerham.
“And so,” continued Westerham, quietly, “I will give you five seconds to make up your mind. You either order all these jewels to be restored to their proper owners or I will tear the mask from your face.”
“For Heaven's sake don't do that,” cried Melun in a low voice. “But it will cost you your life, for I shall not be able to hold the men.”
“I shall not bother you to do so,” said Westerham; “I can manage them quite well myself.”
Still keeping Captain Melun under observation, he turned about, while his revolver covered the man who had collected the jewels. “Come here!” he ordered.
The man came forward.