inconsistency in her conduct, even to the entrusting to a stranger of the stolen secret, the purloined paper she dared not keep about her lest it be found in her possession?
Lanyard's eyes narrowed. Visibly his features hardened. If this surmise of his were any way justified in the outcome, he promised Miss Cecelia Brooke an hour of most painful penitence.
Woman or not, she need not look for mercy from him, who must ever be merciless in his dealings with Ekstrom's crew.
To be made that one's tool!
The very thought was intolerable. …
As for himself, possession of this paper meant that pitfalls were digged for his every step.
If ever the British found cause to suspect him, his certain portion would be to face a firing squad in dusk of early day.
If, on the other hand, these Prussian agents on board the Assyrian ever got wind of the fact that the cylinder was in his care, his fate was apt to be a knife between his ribs the first time he was caught alone and—with his back to the assassin.
Two courses, then, were open to him: the most sensible and obvious, to go straightway to the captain of the Assyrian, report all that he knew or surmised, and turn over the paper for safekeeping; one alternative, to hide the cylinder so absolutely that the most drastic search would overlook it, yet so handily that he could rid himself of it at an instant's notice.
But the first course involved denunciation of the
