“You no longer desire revenge on Guy Rossett?” he asked, looking at her intently.
“Not that sort of revenge,” she answered truthfully. “For I suppose murder is in their thoughts.”
“I had a brief talk with Contraras this morning; he came round to my rooms. He was more frank than he usually is with his subordinates. I suppose he was pleased with the way in which I have, so far, conducted the affair. He thought there would be great difficulty in getting hold of Guy Rossett.”
“Will you tell me, some day, why you found it easy?”
“Some day, perhaps; but not now. To return to our chief, Contraras. He explained to me that he has no desire to remove this particular man, if he will fall into line with him. He frankly admits that he is too small game, that he would willingly avoid the odium that such a deed would bring on the brotherhood.”
“Ah!” Violet was very interested now. “If he falls in line with him. What does that mean? Or perhaps,” she added bitterly, “this is another secret that is to be hidden from me.”
“Not at all,” was the quiet answer. “I usually keep my own secrets, but I am not always so scrupulous with regard to the secrets of others. Contraras is going to offer him two alternatives. The first is—that he resigns from the Embassy on some plausible pretext, and takes a solemn oath to do nothing to thwart the brotherhood. The other alternative you can guess.”
“Death,” whispered Violet in a hollow voice, and her face went as pale as death itself.
“And you can guess what Rossett’s answer will be?” said Moreno, breaking the long silence that ensued between them after those significant words.
“I know, I know. He will choose death unless you can save him.” The woman in her came suddenly to the surface, and she broke down, sobbing bitterly.