His arm with the revolver was upraised, his eyes unwavering. The informer saw determination in his gaze. A further word of alarm, and a bullet would pass through his brain.
For a few seconds he stood in sullen silence.
“All right!” he shouted to them at last. “It is nothing, comrades. I was mistaken. Leave us in peace.”
We heard a murmuring of discontent outside, and then the footsteps commenced to descend the steep uncarpeted stairs. As they did so, Hartwig dropped his weapon, saying:
“Now let us sit down and talk. I have several questions I wish to put to you. If you answer frankly, then I promise that I will not betray you to your comrades.”
“What do you mean by ‘frankly’?”
“I mean that you must tell me the exact truth.”
The man’s face grew dark; his brows contracted; he bit his finger-nails.
“What was the motive of the attempt you made upon the Grand Duke Nicholas and his daughter, and the gentleman here, Mr Trewinnard?”
“I don’t know,” he replied.