"You are going to load my revolver, and go over to Paradise and take
that balloon from these bandits?" I asked, smiling.
"An order is all right, but it is the more formal when backed by a
bullet," he said.
"Do you mean to tell me that you were preparing to go over into that
hornet's nest alone?"
He shrugged his shoulders with a reckless laugh.
"Give me my revolver," I said, coldly.
His face fell. "Let me take it, Mr. Scarlett," he pleaded; but I
refused, and made him hand me the weapon.
"Now," I said, sternly, "I want to know what the devil you mean by
attempting suicide? Do you suppose that those ruffians care a straw
for you and your order? Kelly, what's the matter with you? Is life as
unattractive as all that?"
His flushed and sullen face darkened.
"If you want to risk your life," I said, "you have plenty of chances
in your profession. Did you ever hear of an aged aëronaut? Kelly, go
back to America and break your neck like a gentleman."
He darted a menacing glance at me, but there was nothing of irony in
my sober visage.
"You appear here," I said, "after the others have sailed from
Lorient. Why? To do Speed this generous favor? Yes--and to do yourself
the pleasure of ending an embittered life under the eyes of the woman
who ruined you."
The boy flinched as though I had struck him in the face. For a moment
I expected a blow; his hands clinched convulsively, and he focussed me
with blazing eyes.
"Don't," I said, quietly. "I am trying to be your friend; I am
trying to save you from yourself, Kelly. Don't throw away your
life--as I have done. Life is a good thing, Kelly, a good thing. Can
we not be friends though I tell you the truth?"
The color throbbed and throbbed in his face. There was a chair near
him; he groped for it, and sat down heavily.
"Life is a good thing," I said again, "but, Kelly, truth is better.
And I must tell you the--well, something of the truth--as much as you
need know ... now. My friend, _she is not worth it_."
"Do you think that makes any difference?" he said, harshly. "Let me
alone, Scarlett. I know!... _I know_, I tell you!"
"Do you mean to tell me that you know she deliberately betrayed you?"
I demanded.
"Yes, I know it--I tell you I know it!"
"And ... you love her?"
"Yes." He dropped his haggard face on his arms a moment, then sat
bolt upright. "Truth is better than life," he said, slowly. "I lied
to you and to myself when I came back. I did come to get Speed's
balloon, but I came ... for her sake,... to be near her,... to see her
once more before I--"
"Yes, I understand, Kelly."
He winced and leaned wearily back.
"You are right," he said; "I wanted to end it,... I am tired."
I sat thinking for a moment; the light in the room faded to a glimmer
on the panes.
"Kelly," I said, "there remains another way to risk your neck, and,
I think, a nobler way. There is in this house a woman who is running a
terrible risk--a German spy whose operations have been discovered.
This woman believes that she has in her pay the communist leader of
the revolt, a man called Buckhurst. She is in error. And she must
leave this house to-night."
Eyre's face had paled. He bent forward, clasped hands between his
knees, eyes fastened on me.
"There will be trouble here to-night--or, in all probability, within
the next twenty-four hours. I expect to see Buckhurst a prisoner. And
when that happens it will go hard with Mademoiselle Elven, for he will
turn on her to save himself.... And you know what that means;... a
blank wall, Kelly, and a firing-squad. There is but one sex for
spies."
A deadly fear was stamped on his bloodless face. I saw it, tense and
quivering, in the gray light of the window.
"She must leave to-night, Kelly. She must try to cross into Spain.
Will you help her?"