The smoke of the shot was curling
about, but neither man seemed wounded. The revolver was in
Rupert's hand, and its muzzle smoked. But Rupert was jammed
against the wall, just by the side of the mantelpiece. With one
hand Rudolf had pinned his left arm to the wainscoting higher
than his head, with the other he held his right wrist. I drew
slowly nearer: if Rudolf were unarmed, I could fairly enforce a
truce and put them on an equality; yet, though Rudolf was
unarmed, I did nothing. The sight of his face stopped me. He was
very pale and his lips were set, but it was his eyes that caught
my gaze, for they were glad and merciless. I had never seen him
look thus before. I turned from him to young Hentzau's face.
Rupert's teeth were biting his under lip, the sweat dropped, and
the veins swelled large and blue on his forehead; his eyes were
set on Rudolf Rassendyll. Fascinated, I drew nearer. Then I saw
what passed. Inch by inch Rupert's arm curved, the elbow bent,
the hand that had pointed almost straight from him and at Mr.
Rassendyll pointed now away from both towards the window. But its
motion did not stop; it followed the line of a circle: now it was
on Rupert's arm; still it moved, and quicker now, for the power
of resistance grew less.
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