The surprise of the onslaught and the huge weight of my assailant gave him the advantage.  He had a pistol in his right hand of a portentous size, which it took me all my strength to keep deflected.  With his left arm he strained me to his bosom, so that I thought I must be crushed or stifled.  His mouth was open, his face crimson, and he panted aloud with hard animal sounds.  The affair was as brief as it was hot and sudden.  The potations which had swelled and bloated his carcase had already weakened the springs of energy.  One more huge effort, that came near to overpower me, and in which the pistol happily exploded, and I felt his grasp slacken and weakness come on his joints; his legs succumbed under his weight, and he grovelled on his knees on the stone floor.  ‘Spare me!’ he gasped.

I had not only been abominably frightened; I was shocked besides:  my delicacy was in arms, like a lady to whom violence should have been offered by a similar monster.  I plucked myself from his horrid contact, I snatched the pistol—­even discharged, it was a formidable weapon—­and menaced him with the butt.  ‘Spare you!’ I cried, ‘you beast!’

His voice died in his fat inwards, but his lips still vehemently framed the same words of supplication.  My anger began to pass off, but not all my repugnance; the picture he made revolted me, and I was impatient to be spared the further view of it.

‘Here,’ said I, ’stop this performance:  it sickens me.  I am not going to kill you, do you hear?  I have need of you.’

A look of relief, that I could almost have called beautiful, dawned on his countenance.  ‘Anything—­anything you wish,’ said he.

Anything is a big word, and his use of it brought me for a moment to a stand.  ‘Why, what do you mean?’ I asked.  ’Do you mean that you will blow the gaff on the whole business?’

He answered me Yes with eager asseverations.

’I know Monsieur de Saint-Yves is in it; it was through his papers we traced you,’ I said.  ’Do you consent to make a clean breast of the others?’

‘I do—­I will!’ he cried.  ’The ’ole crew of ’em; there’s good names among ’em.  I’ll be king’s evidence.’

‘So that all shall hang except yourself?  You damned villain!’ I broke out.  ’Understand at once that I am no spy or thief-taker.  I am a kinsman of Monsieur de St. Yves—­here in his interest.  Upon my word, you have put your foot in it prettily, Mr. Burchell Fenn!  Come, stand up; don’t grovel there.  Stand up, you lump of iniquity!’

He scrambled to his feet.  He was utterly unmanned, or it might have gone hard with me yet; and I considered him hesitating, as, indeed, there was cause.  The man was a double-dyed traitor:  he had tried to murder me, and I had first baffled his endeavours and then exposed and insulted him.  Was it wise to place myself any longer at his mercy?  With his help I should doubtless travel more quickly; doubtless