CHAPTER LIII. FACE TO FACE.

Balmayne groveled helplessly. There were tears in his eyes. The man could plot and intrigue, he could make the weapons for others, but he had no heart for them himself. He was an abject coward without feeling for anyone but himself. He would have left his nearest to starve or die without a prick of conscience, but he was nervous for himself. And he read his sentence in Lalage's eyes.

"Get up!" the latter cried. "Why do you grovel there? Faugh! you sicken me. Is there no spark of manhood in you at all? You are going to die."

An approving chorus followed from the others.

"You hear that?" Lalage went on. "You are going to die. Your life has been given over to me to do as I please with. There is one way to save your delicate skin, one way to freedom if you choose to take it."

Balmayne rose from the floor. Something like hope crept into his haggard eyes.

"It shall be done," he said hoarsely. "Speak."

"Ah, I knew you would listen to reason; I knew there was nothing so vile and degraded that you would not do to save yourself. Answer me the question, then. Tell me at once where I can find Leona Lalage?"

Balmayne started. Not that he desired to show any courage and refuse. He knew why, none better, Lalage wanted to see his brother's wife. And he would have betrayed her to save himself without the smallest hesitation.

It would mean the loss of all his plans, it would mean hiding in poverty in England instead of something like luxury on the Continent, but he did not hesitate. Leona Lalage would never have acted like that.

"I will show you where she is," he said hoarsely.

"Of course you will," Lalage laughed. "Heaven be praised you are no countryman of mine? Oh you dog, you gutter cur, you slimy reptile, to betray a mere woman like this! And not even to make a good fight of it. But whilst I revile you and try to get the blood into your white cowardly cheeks it is good that you should obey. I spare your life because it will not be for long."

Balmayne sat there without a word. He had no feeling, no sense of shame.

"I am going to take this man with me," said Lalage as he rose. "He is known to you all, and you have marked him well. In his way he will betray us if he can. He will not go to the police, because they may ask awkward questions, and as like as not there is a warrant out for his arrest also. But he is a man of many ideas. If anything happens to me, repeat it to the Brotherhood at the headquarters. After that I would not give a week for the life of this Balmayne."

Balmayne nodded and turned. He knew only too well what that threat meant. So far as he could see there was no way out of it whatever. He had come to the end of his resources. If he could only get away from this!

"Goodnight, comrades," said Lalage. "I shall return presently. Come on, dog, follow at the heels of your master."

Lalage struck out boldly into the street followed by Balmayne. There was only one thing uppermost in his mind, one great project that filled his untutored brain. A great wrong had been done, and he was to right it by blood. There was no crime about this, it had been the custom of his race for centuries.

His own kin had been done to death, and he was going to avenge the murder. To this end he had caused Balmayne to be lured from his hiding place by those who knew how to bait the trap for the rascal. Once Balmayne was in his power he would be compelled to speak. And the night was very dark.

Balmayne slunk by the side of his companion. He longed to cry aloud that here was a man who had escaped from gaol, to have him bound hand and foot, and to feel that he was out of the way for the present. He wanted to go to the nearest policeman and tell him all this.

But then the police would want to know too much, and he did not feel that he himself was anything like out of the wood. Again, there was the Brotherhood. That it was no idle threat on the part of Lalage, Balmayne knew only too well. Once he betrayed the latter his life was not worth a week's purchase.

"Are we getting near the spot?" Lalage asked.

"We are getting very near now," Balmayne croaked.

They had come to a better part of the town. They paused at length before Lytton Avenue. The house of many festivities was dark and dismantled. There was no sign of life or movement there.

"A good idea," Lalage muttered. "An excellent doubling of the tracks. May I guess that you are going to meet Leona Lalage here tonight?"

Balmayne nodded. He spoke so low that the other hardly caught the words.

"Here is the latchkey," he said. "There are several of them. There is no caretaker in the place as yet. Go in, you have no further need of me."

Lalage entered gently. He stood in the pitchy darkness for some time. He could not hear a sound. Presently his patience was rewarded. There was the click of a key in the door and something swished by him.

Lalage thrust out his arm and grasped a silken shoulder.

"Not a cry," he whispered, hoarsely. "I don't know the house and you do. I am going to hold on to you, and you are going to guide me to a back room where we can turn on the electric light in safety. And recollect that I have two hands, and that there is a long knife in the other one."

The woman moved on without further sound or protest. She came at length to a room at the back of the house, and fumbled along the wall. There was a click, and the place was flooded with brilliant light.

Leona Lalage fell back with a faint cry. Just for a moment she covered her eyes with her hands. Lalage stood like a statue. He smiled, but there was nothing of mirth in it.

"René Lalage!" Leona said. "You have come here to kill me!"