_"Ecoutez-moi!"_ he cried in excellent French, looking up and darting
a fierce look at the man in front of him. "Listen! You have played a
bold game and lost it. You did not hold a sufficiently strong hand."
Hyde stood sullenly silent and unconcerned, but he felt he was
discovered.
"In your charming and for the most part veracious story there is only
one slight mistake, my good friend."
"I do not understand."
"I will tell you. Eugene Chabot, your brother?--yes; your brother.
Well, he could not have written to you as you tell me--"
"But I assure you--"
"For the simple reason, that, just one week before the seizure of
Valetta Joe, Chabot was killed--in a sortie from the enemy's lines."
"Impossible! I--"
"Have been lying throughout and must take the consequences. You have
thrust your head into the lion's jaw. Hold!"
Seeing that Hyde had thrust his one hand beneath his blouse, seeking,
no doubt, for some concealed weapon, Hobson suddenly struck a bell on
the table before him.
Four men rushed in.
"Seize him before he can use his arm! Seize him, and unmask him!"
The ruffians, laying violent hands on Hyde, tore off his blouse and
dragged the wig with its elaborate curls from his head. In the
struggle he gave a sharp cry of pain. They had touched too roughly the
still helpless arm which hung in its sling beneath the blouse.
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