of God and man, they might violate, but to that one, "Thou shalt do no murder," they bowed, the very defencelessness of their lives making murder doubly terrible to them. So, strong men as they were, they gazed wild-eyed on the scene, and some of the bravest trembled.
On Pierre, the word acted like magic. No less pale he was than before, but it was a paleness in which the sense of self-preservation was awake, looking from his eyes, as it looks from those of hunted wild creatures brought suddenly to bay. He attempted no plea; he made no denial; but his form grew compact with the compactness of one about to spring. Trafford, wondering what course the others would take, brought his pistol to a steady aim, and said clearly and sharply:
"Surrender, or I'll shoot! Throw up your arms!"
He felt, rather than saw, that on the edge of the light stood his assistant also covering the man with his revolver. The man moved as if to obey the order to throw up his arms, and then, with a quickness of which none guessed him capable, struck Trafford's
