'To you--yes,' answered Vandeloup, crossing to the door and locking
it; 'to others--no.'
'Why do you lock the door?' asked Gollipeck, gruffly.
'I don't want my private affairs all over Melbourne,' retorted
Gaston, smoothly, returning to his position in front of the
fireplace; 'are you afraid?'
Something again went wrong with Dr Gollipeck's inside, and he grated
out a hard ironical laugh.
'Do I look afraid?' he asked, spreading out his hands.
Vandeloup stooped down to the portmanteau lying open at his feet,
and picked up a revolver, which he pointed straight at Gollipeck.
'You make an excellent target,' he observed, quickly, putting his
finger on the trigger.
Dr Gollipeck sat down, and arranged his handkerchief once more over
his knees.
'Very likely,' he answered, coolly, 'but a target you won't practise
on.'
'Why not?' asked Vandeloup, still keeping his finger on the trigger.
'Because the pistol-shot would alarm the house,' said Gollipeck,
serenely, 'and if I was found dead, you would be arrested for my
murder. If I was only wounded I could tell a few facts about M.
Octave Braulard that would have an unpleasant influence on the life
of M. Gaston Vandeloup.'
Vandeloup laid the pistol down on the mantelpiece with a laugh, lit
a cigarette, and, sitting down in a chair opposite Gollipeck, began
to talk.
'You are a brave man,' he said, coolly blowing a wreath of smoke, 'I
admire brave men.
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