Nathaniel drew his pistol. He would not shoot,
but Strang might be made to tell the truth with death leveling itself at
his heart. He groped behind him, found the door, and slammed it shut.
There would be no retreat for the king!
And the man who turned toward him at the slamming of that door, turned
slowly, coolly, and gazed into the black muzzle of his pistol looked,
indeed, every inch of him a king. The muscles of his face betrayed no
surprise, no fear. His splendid nerve was unshaken, his eyes unfaltering
as they rose above the pistol to the face behind it. For fifteen seconds
there was a strange terrible silence as the eyes of the two men met. In
that quarter of a minute Nathaniel knew that he had not guessed rightly.
Strang was not afraid. He would not tell him where Marion was. The
insuperable courage of this man maddened Captain Plum and unconsciously
his finger fell upon the trigger of his pistol. He almost shrieked the
words that he meant to speak calmly:
"Where is Marion?"
"She is safe, Captain Plum. She is where the friends who are invading us
from the mainland will have no chance of finding her."
Strang spoke as quietly as though in his own office beside the temple.
Suddenly he raised his voice.
"She is safe, Captain Plum--safe!"
His eyes wavered, and traveled beyond. As accurately as a striking
serpent Nathaniel measured that glance. It had gone to the door. He
heard a movement, felt a draft of air, and in an instant he whirled
about with his pistol pointed to the door.
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