Part 83 (2/2)
The eyes of both women met; both turned a trifle paler. Then Ilse Dumont walked slowly up to the other:
”I overheard your warning,” she said with a deadly stare.
”Really?”
Ilse stretched out her bare arm, palm upward, and closed the fingers tightly:
”I hold your life in my hand. I have only to speak. Do you understand?”
”No.”
”You are lying. You _do_ understand. You take double wages; but it is not France you betray! Nor Russia!”
”Are you insane?”
”Almost. _Where do you carry them?_”
”What?”
”Answer quickly. _Where?_ I tell you, I'll expose you in another moment if you don't answer me! Speak quickly!”
The other woman had turned a ghastly white; for a second or two she remained dumb, then, dry-lipped:
”Above--the knee,” she stammered; but there was scarcely a sound from the blanched lips that formed the words.
”Pistols?”
”Yes.”
”Loaded? Both of them?”
”Yes.”
”Clips?”
”No.”
”Unstrap them!”
The woman turned, bent almost double, twisting her supple body entirely around; but Ilse Dumont was at her side like a flash and caught her wrist as she withdrew her hand from the hem of her fluffy skirt.
”Now--_take_ your life!” said Ilse Dumont between her teeth. ”There's the door! Go out!”--following her with blazing eyes--”Stop! Stand where you are until I come!”
Then she came quickly to where Neeland stood, astonished; and thrust two automatic pistols into his hands.
”Get Sengoun,” she whispered. ”Don't go _down_-stairs, for G.o.d's sake.
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