"So I judge."
"Come! This won't do. I'm a determined man. That map I'm going to have. Unless you want the scene to close with the final exit of John Sedgwick, find for me the map."
"Suppose I tell you that I haven't it?"
"I shall believe you, since the evidence would support the assertion. I should then ask who has it?"
"You certainly are a man of one idea. I think I've never had the pleasure of talking with you that you didn't switch the conversation back to that map."
He raised the revolver.
"I asked a question."
There was a step outside, followed by a knock on the door. "Come in," I sang out instantly.
Bothwell's furious gaze came back from the door just as I leaped. A bullet crashed through the skylight, for my arm had deflected his. I wrapped myself about him in silent struggle for the weapon. We swayed against the bed and went down upon it hard, our weight tearing through the springs. Desperately I clung to his arm to keep the weapon from pointing at me.
"Let go, Sedgwick," a voice ordered.