“Do you suspect anybody?” was Nello’s next question.
The man uttered a fierce imprecation. “Yes, I do; I suspect one of my so-called pals. As captain I took the biggest share when we agreed to separate. I caught his eye fixed upon me with a very sinister look. My theory is that he followed me at a safe distance and saw where I was lodged. He was well aware of my habits; he knew I should be pretty fast asleep. He climbed up through the window, Monsieur, and took every copper. I was too drunk to hear him. If I had been in my sober senses, I would have strangled him, and added one more crime to the many committed by Ivan the outlaw.” He ended with a defiant grin, that showed a row of strong white wolfish teeth.
Nello mused for a little space. The man might be speaking truth; he was half disposed to think so. On the other hand, he might be telling him a tissue of lies.
“Why are you not armed?” he asked suddenly.
“I have a pistol, Monsieur, but it is empty. I could find no place in which to buy cartridges. See for yourself.”
He fumbled in his pocket and threw down the weapon on the ground. Nello picked it up cautiously; it was, as its owner had truly declared, harmless.
A grim smile crossed the young man’s countenance, but he did not for a second relax his vigilance. This ruffian of the highway was, no doubt, as cunning as he was plausible.
“If your pistol had been loaded, I expect you would have extorted money from me instead of begging it.”
Ivan the outlaw shook his big head. “Under ordinary circumstances, yes, Monsieur. Adversity has taught me not to stand upon ceremony. But when I saw your lips moving in prayer before the ikon, I would not have harmed a hair of your head. You would have been sacred.”