"I understand now. My name is John Howland.
And my father's name was John Howland. I understand."
There was silence, in which the eyes of the two men met.
"I understand," repeated the engineer, advancing a step. "And you, Jean
Croisset--do you believe that I am _that_ John Howland--the John
Howland--the son who--"
He stopped, waiting for Jean to comprehend, to speak.
"M'seur, it makes no difference what I believe now. I have but one other
thing to tell you here--and one thing to give to you," replied Jean.
"Those who have tried to kill you are the three brothers. Meleese is
their sister. Ours is a strange country, M'seur, governed since the
beginning of our time by laws which we have made ourselves. To those who
are waiting above no torture is too great for you. They have condemned
you to death. This morning, exactly as the minute hand of your watch
counts off the hour of six, you will be shot to death through one of
these holes in the dungeon walls. And this--this note from Meleese--is
the last thing I have to give you."
He dropped a folded bit of paper on the table. Mechanically Howland
reached for it. Stunned and speechless, cold with the horror of his
death sentence, he smoothed out the note.
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