I might have been Medusa. I had a
welcome minute in which to contemplate the victims of my prowess and
to exult unchristianly in their scars. Then the tableau dissolved, the
three men sprang up, and I took action. As I emerged I had drawn out a
handkerchief and I now proceeded to raise and wave it.
"Well, Herr von Blenheim, I have come to parley with you," I announced,
"white flag and all."
He tried to look as if he had expected me, though it was obvious that he
hadn't. To give verisimilitude to the pretense, he even pulled out his
watch.
"I thought you would. You had just two minutes' grace," he commented,
watching me narrowly. "Suppose you come down. You have brought the
papers, I hope--for your own sake?"
"Oh, yes!" I assured him with all possible blandness. "I have brought
them. What else was there to do? You had us in the palm of your hand.
That door is old and worm-eaten; you could have crumpled it up like
paper. When we thought the situation over we saw its hopelessness at
once; so here I am."
"That is sensible," he agreed curtly, though I could see that he was
puzzled.
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