turning　my　head　to　the　right　and　to　the　left。

Black　told　me　not　to　hide　anything。　Where　was　the　last　picture？　Confess！

I　felt　suffocating　regret　and　anger　for　two　reasons：　First；　I’d　said　everything　I

had for naught； unaware that they’d e to an agreement beforehand；

secondly； I hadn’t fled； unable to imagine that their envy would reach this

level。

Black　threatened　to　cut　my　throat　if　I　didn’t　produce　the　last　picture。

How　very　ridiculous。　I　firmly　closed　my　lips；　as　if　the　truth　would　escape　if　I

opened　my　mouth。　Part　of　me　also　thought　that　there　was　nothing　left　for　me

to　do。　If　they　came　to　an　agreement　among　themselves　and　turned　me　over　to

the　Head　Treasurer　as　the　murderer；　they’d　end　up　saving　their　own　hides。　My

only　hope　lay　with　Master　Osman；　who　might　point　out　another　suspect　or

another clue； but then； could I be certain what Black said about him was

correct？ He could kill me here and now； and later place the onus on me；

couldn’t　he？

They　rested　the　dagger　against　my　throat；　and　I　saw　at　once　how　this　gave

Black　a　pleasure　that　he　could　not　conceal。　They　slapped　me。　Was　the　dagger

cutting　my　skin？　They　slapped　me　again。

I　was　able　to　work　through　the　following　logic：　If　I　held　my　peace；　nothing

would　happen！　This　gave　me　strength。　They　could　no　longer　hide　the　fact　that

since　the　days　of　our　apprenticeships　they’d　been　jealous　of　me；　I；　who　quite

evidently　applied　paint　in　the　best　manner；　drew　the　steadiest　line　and　made

the　best　illuminations。　I　loved　them　for　their　extreme　envy。　I　smiled　upon　my

beloved　brethren。

One　of　them；　I　don’t　want