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Chapter 5 - Page 2
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'Now!' cried Toussac in a voice of thunder, 'now!' and he rushed from the hut.
Lesage had shrunk away into the corner in a frenzy of fear whilst Toussac had been killing the hound, but now he raised his agonised face, which was as wet as if he had dipped it into a basin.
'Yes, yes,' he cried; 'we must fly, Charles. The hound has left the police behind, and we may still escape.'
But the other, with the same imperturbable face, motionless save for the rhythm of his jaw muscles, walked quietly over and closed the door upon the inside.
'I think, friend Lucien,' said he in his quiet voice, 'that you had best stay where you are.'
Lesage looked at him with amazement gradually replacing terror upon his pallid features.
'But you do not understand, Charles,' he cried.
'Oh, yes, I think I do,' said the other, smiling.
'They may be here in a few minutes. The hound has slipped its leash, you see, and has left them behind in the marsh; but they are sure to come here, for there is no other cottage but this.'
'They are sure to come here.'
'Well, then, let us fly. In the darkness we may yet escape.'
'No; we shall stay where we are.'
'Madman, you may sacrifice your own life, but not mine. Stay if you wish, but for my part I am going.'
He ran towards the door with a foolish, helpless flapping of his hands, but the other sprang in front of him with so determined a gesture of authority that the younger man staggered back from it as from a blow.
'You fool!' said his companion. 'You poor miserable dupe!'
Lesage's mouth opened, and he stood staring with his knees bent and his spread-fingered hands up, the most hideous picture of fear that I have ever seen.
'You, Charles, you!' he stammered, hawking up each word.
'Yes, me,' said the other, smiling grimly.
'A police agent all the time! You who were the very soul of our society! You who
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