“What is your idea of the best of a bad job,” sneered Gregori—“to take the handcuffs off you and put them on me and the Colonel? If it means a ‘lifer’ for the Colonel! what does it mean for me? You don’t suppose I am going back to Dartmoor to build walls for the moor farmers, do you?”
“What is the alternative?” asked Michael.
“I’ll tell you what is the alternative,” hissed the other thrusting his face into the detective’s, “it is the only alternative that will give me any satisfaction—and it is to put you out.”
“Dot is id,” nodded Stockmar.
The girl’s heart almost stopped beating and for a moment she closed her eyes and gripped tight to the edge of the table. She felt physically sick and her knees were trembling under her. Fortunately their attention was fully occupied with Michael and nobody noticed that she had grown of a sudden peaked and grey. She bit her lips and by sheer effort of will regained control of herself. She looked at Michael: that little smile of his still played about the corners of his mouth and the eyes that were lifted to Colling Jacques were full of good humor.
“It is you or us, Pretherston,” the engineer was saying; “you don’t suppose we have been working for this stuff and taken all the risk, only to see ourselves standing in the dock of the Old Bailey?”
“Winchester,” corrected the detective, “it is a very pretty assize court—the vaulted ceiling will appeal to you, Jacques. It is in the Gothic style.”
“One moment,” said the Colonel suddenly.
With a nod he called the men to a corner of the room and for five minutes there was a whispered consultation. The girl and Michael were left alone and obeying some impulse which she could not define, she suddenly turned her back upon him and walked to the window, a proceeding which Gregori noticed out of the corner of his eye. Presently the little conference broke up and the Colonel came back with the others.
“Look here, Pretherston, I am going to make a proposition to you. You are not a rich man, I take it.”
“My private affairs don’t concern you,” said Michael calmly, “and I certainly am not prepared to discuss them with you.”
“This job is worth two and a half millions and there are ten of us in it. Help us to make a getaway and there is not far short of a quarter of a million for you.”
The girl swung round and looked at Michael. How would he take this offer? She knew how great was the appeal which money made to men, especially money easily earnt. She waited in breathless, almost painful, suspense.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds,” said Michael—“that is a lot of money. But, why do you put such a proposition to me?”
“It is a lot of money,” repeated the Colonel significantly.
Michael laughed.
“I suppose there was a time in your life,” he drawled, “when if somebody had offered you money to do a dishonest act, you would have knocked him down? But perhaps there never was such a time,” he said, searching the other’s face.
“I no more want to discuss my affairs, than you want to discuss yours,” said the Colonel gruffly; “here is the proposition,” he thumped the table, “do you take it?”
Michael shook his head.
“I won’t be rude to you,” he said, “because you are an older man and because you are going to end your life rather miserably in a very short time.”
He saw the man wince.
“I am not saying that with the object of offending you,” Michael continued. “I am just telling you what is the truth. Suppose you get away from here, how are you going to make your escape from England? By this time every port is closed to you.”
“I will tell you how we are going to get out of England,” said Gregori, “we are going to leave by the only route possible, by ship from London.”
“By ship from London?” it was the surprised voice of the girl.
“We have done a little planning on our own, Kate,” said Gregori with a grin; “this is our last job. We didn’t tell you because we didn’t think it was worth while upsetting you. Everything was arranged last week.”
“Without my knowledge,” she said.
He nodded.
“What do you say, Pretherston? It is your last chance.”
“It isn’t my last chance,” said the other cheerfully.
“What do you mean?”
“That you will find out,” said Michael with a sudden sternness. “I warn you that your time is very short.”
“Your time will be shorter,” said Gregori with a sinister smile.
“We will give him half-an-hour to think over it,” suggested Jacques; “put him in the engine room.”
The engine room was the uncomfortable little shed which had been built on to the mixing shop to accommodate a dynamo. It was now empty save for a truckle bed on which one of the gang had slept. Padlocked iron doors led to the mixing room and to the outer world, but to make doubly sure, Garon volunteered to stand outside the building and keep guard. Michael was thrust into the little room and the door slammed upon him.
“Now,” said Gregori when they were back again in the office, “we have to decide and decide quickly. If we can be sure that this fellow is alone he has got to be killed.”
“Killed?” said Kate. “Oh, no, no!”
He turned on her with a snarl.
“This is our job. You keep out of this, Kate,” he said. “I tell you it must be done, for all our sakes.”
“The first thing,” said the Colonel, “is to get the gold away.”
“It will be loaded on to the trucks tomorrow morning,” said Gregori, “and we had better keep this fellow alive until it is gone.”
“Are we using our own
