The brief phrase was uttered very simply but with a firmness that gave it the full significance of an irrevocable sentence. It was clear that Essarès was faced with a catastrophe which he could no longer avoid save by submitting absolutely. In less than a minute, he would have spoken or he would be dead. Once again Patrice fixed his eyes on Coralie, ready to interfere should he perceive in her any other feeling than one of passive terror. But her attitude did not change. She was therefore accepting the worst, it appeared, even though this meant her husband's death; and Patrice held his hand accordingly. "Are we all agreed?" Bournef asked, turning to his accomplices. "Quite," said one of them. "Do you take your share of the responsibility?" "We do." Bournef brought his hands together and crossed them, which had the result of knotting the cord round Essarès' neck. Then he pulled slightly, so as to make the pressure felt, and asked, unemotionally: "Yes or no?" "Yes." There was a murmur of satisfaction. The accomplices heaved a breath; and Bournef nodded his head with an air of approval: "Ah, so you accept! It was high time: I doubt if any one was ever nearer death than you were, Essarès." Retaining his hold of the cord, he continued, "Very well. You will speak. But I know you; and your answer surprises me, for I told the colonel that not even the certainty of death would make you confess your secret. Am I wrong?" "No," replied Essarès. "Neither death nor torture." "Then you have something different to propose?" "Yes." "Something worth our while?" "Yes. I suggested it to the colonel just now, when you were out of the room. But, though he was willing to betray you and go halves with me in the secret, he refused the other thing." "Why should I accept it?" "Because you must take it or leave it and because you will understand what he did not." "It's a compromise, I suppose?" "Yes." "Money?" "Yes." Bournef shrugged his shoulders: "A few thousand-franc notes, I expect. And you imagine that Bournef and his friends will be such fools? . . . Come, Essarès, why do you want us to compromise? We know your secret almost entirely. . . ." "You know what it is, but not how to use it. You don't know how to get at it; and that's just the point." "We shall discover it." "Never." "Yes, your death will make it easier for us." "My death? Thanks to the information lodged by the colonel, in a few hours you will be tracked down and most likely caught: in any case, you will be unable to pursue your search. Therefore you have hardly any choice. It's the money which I'm offering you, or else . . . prison." "And, if we accept," asked Bournef, to whom the argument seemed to appeal, "when shall we be paid?" "At once." "Then the money is here?" "Yes." "A contemptible sum, as I said before?" "No, a much larger sum than you hope for; infinitely larger." "How much?" "Four millions." CHAPTER V HUSBAND AND WIFE