He has forgotten Beatrice. For a witch--well, you are
a very remarkable one, Unorna. As a woman of business----" He shook his
head.
"What do you mean, this time? What did you say?" Her questions came in
a strained tone and she seemed to have difficulty in concentrating her
attention, or in controlling her emotions, or both.
"You paid a large price for the information," observed Keyork.
"What price? What are you speaking of? I do not understand."
"Your soul," he answered, with a laugh. "That was what you offered to
any one who would tell you that the Wanderer was safe. I immediately
closed with your offer. It was an excellent one for me."
Unorna tapped the table impatiently.
"It is odd that a man of your learning should never be serious," she
said.
"I supposed that you were serious," he answered. "Besides, a bargain
is a bargain, and there were numerous witnesses to the transaction," he
added, looking round the room at his dead specimens.
Unorna tried to laugh with him.
"Do you know, I was so nervous that I fancied all those creatures were
groaning and shrieking and gibbering at me, when you came in."
"Very likely they were," said Keyork Arabian, his small eyes twinkling.
"And I imagined that the Malayan woman opened her mouth to scream, and
that the Peruvian savages turned their heads; it was very strange--at
first they groaned, and then they wailed, and then they howled and
shrieked at me.
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