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For a few minutes an intense silence reigned in the little room.
Each man there was busy with his own thoughts, and so far as Claw and Enderby were concerned, looking for some way out. The sudden appearance of Michel Quint and the rapid way in which he had thrown off his disguise came almost as a paralysing surprise to the two chief scoundrels of the drama. Claw, at any rate, had made up his mind to put some sort of a fight, and he glanced with undisguised contempt at Enderby, collapsed, white and almost despairing, in a chair. With a rapid movement Quint crossed the room and locked the door behind him.