There was no open menace in his first question.

When I refused to tell him, he began wheedling and offering all sorts of favors if I would betray my people.

Then, all of a sudden, he whipped out a revolver and stuck the muzzle right in my face.

I felt the blood leave my heart, but I was able to control myself and refuse his demand.

The officer was not easily discouraged; the hours I passed in that little room, with its smoky kerosene lamp, were terrible ones.