"Libertine--blackmailer--spy--and thief--you have proved yourself all of these within the space of half a dozen years," he said quietly. "And now, traitor, and, I suppose, assassin. It puzzles me. Clean living isn't so hard, and yet, you have never tried it, never!" A queer line showed in Landon's cheek, as his lips tightened against each other. And then he laughed again--a harsh, unconvincing little laugh. "Is the first line of attack an appeal to my better nature?" he asked. "Omit it, my friend. However good your aim, you cannot reach a target which, to be frank, is non-existent. Appeals to my self-interest find me alert, but to my conscience, chill as ice. We may chaffer, you and I, but on strictly business lines." He settled himself back upon the dead horse's shoulder, pulled out a silver case, and selected a cigarette. He lit it, talking slowly, between puffs. "My apparently unkinsmanlike conduct in offering no attention to your wound is easily explained. It is a small matter, involved in far larger issues. If you meet my terms, our limited resources in that and other matters will be at your service. If not--" He shrugged his shoulders placidly. "Well, I do not suppose a prison governor pays attention to the condemned's complaints of his breakfast egg on the morning of execution." He moved, leaning forward at last, his elbows on his knees, his palms supporting his chin. And he looked down at Aylmer malignantly. "And I have you here to make or break as I will," he said. "By God! Opportunity doesn't call me twice. I clutch her!" The child turned with a little start, looking at his father with puzzled but not apprehensive eyes. The note of malice in that voice was evidently strange to him, and Aylmer, as he understood this fact, breathed a tiny sigh of relief. The child, at any rate, did not suffer ill-treatment. Landon saw the motion and his features relaxed into something like affection. He held out his hands. "Come here, my son," he said. "Go and find Muhammed." As the child ran forward, he caught him deftly and without a pause of energy tossed him up and out into the sunlight. Aylmer heard the boy's cry of welcome and laugh of delight, as his footsteps pattered over the roof of the cellar and were lost. Muhammed, whoever that might be, was evidently not far away. His father settled down upon his seat again.