"François fought a duel with Raynold," Vorski replied, "and was beaten."
"How do you know? Did you see them fight?"
"No, or I should have interfered. But I know who was the victor."
"No one knows except myself. They were masked."
"Then, if François is dead, it's all up with you."
Vorski took time to think. The argument allowed of no debate. He put a question in his turn:
Don Luis shouted the word, accompanying it with a vehement gesture of the hand, and he explained:
"Never! Your liberty, yes, if the worst comes to the worst and because I know you and know that, denuded of all resources, you will simply go and get yourself hanged somewhere else. But the God-Stone would spell safety, wealth, the power to do evil . . ."
"That's exactly why I want it," said Vorski; "and, by telling me what it's worth, you make me all the more difficult in the matter of François."
"I shall find François all right. It's only a question of patience; and I shall stay two or three days longer, if necessary."
"You will not find him; and, if you do, it will be too late."
"Because he has had nothing to eat since yesterday."
This was said coldly and maliciously. There was a silence; and Don Luis retorted:
"In that case, speak, if you don't want him to die."
"What do I care? Anything rather than fail in my task and stop midway when I've got so far. The end is within sight: those who get in my way must look out for themselves."
Patrice and Stéphane made a movement of horror, while Don Luis laughed frankly:
"Capital! There's no hypocrisy about you. Plain and convincing arguments. By Jingo, how beautiful to see a Hun laying bare his soul! What a glorious mixture of vanity and cruelty, of cynicism and mysticism! A Hun has always a mission to fulfil, even when he's satisfied with plundering and murdering. Well, you're better than a Hun: you're a Superhun!"
"So I propose to treat you as Superhun. Once more, will you tell me where François is?"
He turned to the four Moors and said, very calmly:
It was a matter of a second. With really extraordinary precision of gesture and as though the act had been separated into a certain number of movements, learnt and rehearsed beforehand like a military drill, they picked up Vorski, fastened him to the rope which hung to the tree, hoisted him up without paying attention to his cries, his threats or his shouts and bound him firmly, as he had bound his victim.