"Ah! I knew I could not be mistaken. It is you, then, Rupert
Gascoigne! I thought I recognised you from the first, although it is
years and years since we met."
"Not quite, villain! Cowardly traitor, murderer, despoiler of the
dead!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"That I saw you at your craven work just after the Alma; you ought to
have been shot then. The world would have been well rid of a
miscreant."
"Pretty language, truly, Mr. Gascoigne! I must strive to deserve it."
"What are you going to do with me?"
"I am not sure. Only do not hope for mercy. You know too much. I might
make away with you at once--"
"But why spill blood?" he went on, musing aloud. "The guillotine will
do your business in due course if I hand you over to the law. That
will be best, safest; the most complete riddance, perhaps."
There was a pause.
"You see you are altogether in my power," said Ledantec, "either way.
But I am not unreasonable. I am prepared to spare you--for the
present," he said, with an evil smile--"only for the present, and
according as you may behave."
"On what conditions will you spare me--for the present?" asked Hyde,
elated at the unexpected chance thus given him.
"Tell me how you came to know of this address. Who sent you here?"
"Valetta Joe, the Maltese baker at Kadikoi.
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