"She has betrayed us," he retorted. "And she deserves all she has got."
"You infernal brute!" I cried. "If it were not that it would be deliberate murder, I'd put a bullet through you in return."
"Try it," he laughed jeeringly. "This quixotic temperament of yours will be your undoing."
"I befriended that unfortunate girl," I said. "And she has appreciated what I did."
"The little fool ran her head into a noose, I know," was his reply. "But even though you befriended her, it gave her no right to betray us."
"Nor any right to you to strike her down," I said, glancing at the white face of the prostrate form.
"Ah! You are her champion!" he laughed. "But you wouldn't be if you knew the truth. She wasn't the innocent little person she led you to believe she was."
"No," I cried angrily. "You shall say nothing against your victim's honour, curse you! I only thank Heaven that I'm here to-night—that I know the truth regarding this tragedy. Your intention was—the intention of all three of you, no doubt, was—to get rid of the evidence of your crime. But that will now be impossible."
As I uttered that last sentence, the bearded Frenchman made a movement towards the door.