"Are you satisfied?" asked Belleville presently. He had followed the direction of my glances with a sort of half-contemptuous, half-amused curiosity, reloading his revolver the while. The man evidently cherished an immense opinion of himself--but he was as cautious as a sage: witness the reloading of his weapon--despite the fact that I was as helpless as a trussed fowl.
"And cool? What I mean is are you perfectly collected? Do you feel able to engage in conversation? Or are you too dazed--or perhaps too angry?"
"I can promise at least to listen and try to understand you."
He gave me a sardonic smile. "The under dog is a fool to be sarcastic," he said drily. "However, please yourself. Listen then! You are no doubt aware that it is one of my ambitions to marry Miss Ottley?"
"Captain Weldon stood some time since in my road."
"Peace to his ashes," smiled the Doctor. Then he frowned. "But to my astonishment I now find that the lady did not care for the gallant Captain."
"Indeed and indeed." Belleville bit his lip. "But for you," he snarled.
"It is almost incredible, but it is true."
"As a preliminary step to defying me," replied Belleville. "It was rather silly of her, but perhaps she could not help herself. Women, even the wisest, are slaves to their emotions of the moment. I was willing to make all sorts of concessions, too. I even offered her your life."
"I offered to permit you to live if she would marry me."
Belleville bared his teeth just as I have seen a jackal grin. "You know how women love to glorify the objects of their admiration," he said slowly. "In their opinion the men they--they love--are always the wisest, the strongest, the most astute and the best. I am free to admit, my dear Pinsent, that you are by no means a fool. You have no doubt a fairly keen intelligence--but Miss Ottley has placed you on an alabaster pedestal--pedestal do I say? A pinnacle! She has actually ventured to contrast your ability with mine to my disparagement. She rejected my offer with disdain and challenged me to measure wits with you. And when I accepted the challenge she calmly predicted that you would defeat and destroy me. It thus became my duty to show her how mistaken and fallible in truth is her estimate of me. Weldon's death taught her nothing, absolutely nothing. She protested that if I was really the _deus ex machina_ it only proved me to be an ordinary sort of heartless murderer. Weldon's particular order of intellect never impressed her, it appears. But yours, in her eyes, is little short of divine. There was no help then but to dispose of you in such a way as to open her eyes. It is no boast to say that I could have killed you at any time of the day or night I pleased for weeks past. Had I done so, however, I should have been constrained so to arrange matters--as in Weldon's case--as to make your end appear natural; and I'm afraid Miss Ottley would on that account have been inclined to consider, for a second time, me a lucky prophet and you the second victim of an inscrutable Providence. That is her present attitude toward Weldon's final exit from the stage of life. I was obliged then so to arrange matters as to get you into my power, but, _bien entendu_, without the fanfare of trumpets. I flatter myself that I have managed very well. You may pretend the contrary if you choose, but you'll not convince me. I have had your every movement carefully followed, and I believe that outside of this house there is not a soul in England of your acquaintance who has a doubt but that you are on your way to Egypt. And I have neglected no precautions that could ever give rise to such a doubt. Immediately you quitted your lodgings in Soho this evening, my emissary entered your room by means of a master key and brought away your trunks. No one saw him, for he was invisible; and no one saw your trunks depart, for he made them invisible, too. They are at this moment in this house. You doubt me?"