Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/86

 "That is a feature of the situation on which I am not permitted to figure," he said.

She glanced at the leather-bound travelling clock on the table in front of her.

"It is more dangerous, every moment you stay," she said, and he felt sure her uneasiness was not a pretence. He crossed to the table and stood in front of her.

"Do you know," he said, quite close to her, "I don't believe you're as brave as you'd have me believe, or as hard as they've tried to make you! You're not that sort! I can't believe it!"

She was about to answer him, with her eyes still fixed on his, when the faintest shadow of a change crept over her face. The lips framing themselves to speak remained silent. Her gaze did not actually wander from his face, yet he knew that into her line of vision some outer and newer element had entered.

He had no time to determine what this was. But at the same moment that it flashed home to his wondering mind that a door behind had opened and some one had stealthily entered the room, he heard her voice, a little thin and shrill with fear.

"Tony—don't shoot!"

He saw her hand dart out to the corner of the table. The movement was so quick that it left him no time to determine its significance. But the next instant the room was in utter darkness.

"Don't shoot," he heard her pleading, almost in a frenzy. "Not yet—not yet!" Kestner swung his body about the corner of the table, stooping low as he did so. He brushed the