ud, the caverns of his eyes turned
upon Heyst. Then briskly: "But my object is to keep you in this room.
Don't provoke me, by some unguarded movement, to smash your knee or do
something definite of that sort." He passed his tongue over his lips,
which were dry and black, while his forehead glistened with moisture. "I
don't know if it wouldn't be better to do it at once!"

"He who deliberates is lost," said Heyst with grave mockery.

Mr Jones disregarded the remark. He had the air of communing with
himself.

"Physically I am no match for you," he said slowly, his black gaze fixed
upon the man sitting on the end of the bed. "You could spring--"

"Are you trying to frighten yourself?" asked Heyst abruptly. "You don't
seem to have quite enough pluck for your business. Why don't you do it
at once?"

Mr Jones, taking violent offence, snorted like a savage skeleton.

"Strange as it may seem to you, it is because of my origin, my breeding,
my traditions, my early associations, and such-like trifles. Not
everybody can divest himself of the prejudices of a gentleman as easily
as you have done, Mr. Heyst. But don't worry about my pluck. If you were
to make a clean spring at me, you would receive in mid air, so to speak,
something that would make you perfectly harmless by the time you landed.
No, don't misapprehend us, Mr. Heyst. We are--er--adequate bandits; and
we are after the fruit of your labours as a--er--successful swindler.
It's the way of the world--gorge and disgorge!"

He leaned wearily the back of his head against the wall. His vitality
seemed exhausted. Even his sunken eyelids drooped within the bony
sockets. Only his thin, waspish, beautifully pencilled eyebrows, drawn
together a little, suggested the will and the power to sting--something
vicious, unconquerable, and deadly.

"Fruits! Swindler!" repeated Heyst, without heat, almost without
contempt. "You are giving yourself no end of trouble, you and your
faithful henchman, to crack an empty nut. There are no fruits here, as
you imagine. There are a few sovereigns, which you may have if you like;
and since you have called yourself a bandit--"

"Yaas!" drawled Mr. Jones. "That, rather than a swindler. Open warfare
at least!"

"Very good! Only let me tell you that there were never in the world two
more deluded bandits--never!"

Heyst uttered these words with such energy that Mr. Jones, stiffening
up, seemed to become thinner and taller in his metallic blue