“If you utter a sound,” he whispered, “you will be answerable to the law.”

Nobody spoke or moved.  It was an odd little tableau, grouped together in the dimly lit room.  The footsteps had reached the last flight of stairs now.  They came slowly across the landing, then paused, as though the person who approached could see the light shining through the partly open door.  They heard a voice, a voice almost unrecognizable, a voice hoarse and tremulous with fear, the voice of a hunted man.

“Are you there, Ruth?”

Ruth struggled to reply, but ineffectually.  Slowly, and as though with some foreboding of danger, the footsteps came nearer and nearer.  An unseen hand cautiously pushed the door open.  Isaac stood upon the threshold, peering anxiously into the room.  The inspector turned and faced him.

“Isaac Lalonde,” he said, “I have a warrant for your arrest.  I shall want you to come with me to Bow Street.”

With the certainty of danger, Isaac’s fear seemed to vanish into thin air.  He saw the open door of his ransacked inner room and the piled-up heap of weapons upon the table.  Face to face with actual danger, the, courage of a wild animal at bay seemed suddenly vouchsafed to him.

“Come with you to Hell!” he cried.  “I think not, Mr. Inspector.  Are these the witnesses against me?”

He pointed to Ruth and Arnold.  Ruth clutched her stick and staggered tremblingly to her feet.

“How can you say that, Isaac!” she exclaimed.  “Arnold and I have only been home from the country a few minutes.  We walked into the room and found these men here.  Isaac, I am terrified.  Tell me that you have not done anything really wrong!”

Isaac made no reply.  All the time he watched the inspector stealthily.  The latter moved forward now, as though to make the arrest.  Then Isaac’s hand shot out from his pocket and a long stream of yellow fire flashed through the room.  The inspector sprang back.  Isaac’s hand, with the smoke still curling from the muzzle of his pistol, remained extended.

“That was only a warning,” Isaac declared, calmly.  “I aimed at the wall there.  Next time it may be different.”

There was a breathless silence.  The inspector stood his ground but he did not advance.

“Let me caution you, Isaac Lalonde,” he said, “that the use of firearms by any one in your position is fatal.  You can shoot me, if you like, and my assistant, but if you do you will certainly be hanged.  It is my duty to arrest you and I am going to do it.”

Isaac’s hand was still extended.  This time he had lowered the muzzle of his pistol.  The inspector was only human and he paused, for he was looking straight into the mouth of it.  Isaac slowly backed toward the door.

“Remember, you are warned!” he cried.  “If any one pursues me, I shoot!”

His departure was so sudden and so speedy that he was down the first flight of stairs before the inspector started.  Arnold, who was nearest the door, made a movement as though to follow, but Ruth threw her arms around him.  The policeman who had been examining the other room rushed past them both.