"
"Then I remain; but do you think our friend will keep his appointment?"
"There he is," said Mohun, as hoof-strokes were heard without. "He is
punctual."
XXVIII.
THE SPY.
A moment afterward we heard the new-comer dismount. Then his steps were
heard on the small porch. All at once his figure appeared in the
doorway.
It was Swartz. The fat person, the small eyes, the immense double chin,
and the chubby fingers covered with pinchbeck rings, were unmistakable.
He was clad in citizens' clothes, and covered with dust as from a long
ride.
Mohun rose.
"Come in, my dear Mr. Swartz," he said coolly; "you see we await you."
The spy recoiled. It was plain that he was astonished beyond measure at
seeing us. He threw a glance behind him in the direction of his horse,
and seemed about to fly.
Mohun quietly drew his revolver, and cocked it.
"Fear nothing, my dear sir," he said, "and, above all, do not attempt
to escape."
Swartz hesitated, and cast an uneasy glance upon the weapon.
"Does the sight of this little instrument annoy you?" said Mohun,
laughing. "It shall not be guilty of that impoliteness, Mr. Swartz."
And he uncocked the weapon, and replaced it in its holster.
"Now," he continued, "sit down, and let us talk."
Swartz obeyed.
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