The others would have pressed round too, half in envy, half in scorn; but Tavannes by a gesture stayed them.
"Gentlemen, I ask a minute only," he said.

"A minute for a dying man is not much.

Your friends had as much." And the fellows, acknowledging the claim and assured that their victim could not escape, let Maudron go round the table to him.
The man was in haste and ill at ease, conscious of his evil intentions and the fraud he was practising; and at once greedy to have, yet ashamed of the bargain he was making.

His attention was divided between the slip of paper, on which his eyes fixed themselves, and the attitude of his comrades; he paid little heed to Count Hannibal, whom he knew to be unarmed.

Only when Tavannes seemed to ponder on his message, and to be fain to delay, "Go on," he muttered with brutal frankness; "your time is up!" Tavannes started, the paper slipped from his fingers.