“The other carriage has reappeared. I should like to discover the features of the two men who occupy it, but I cannot.”
I replied that at such a distance, and in the morning mist, it would be impossible to discern them.
“But,” she exclaimed, “those are not faces.”
“What else do you want them to be?” I questioned, and burst out laughing.
Now, in her turn, she inquired of me what silly idea had sprung into my brain to laugh so stupidly and said:
“They are not faces, they are masks. Yonder two men follow us and are masked.”
I informed M. d’Anquetil that seemingly an ugly carriage followed us. But he asked me to let him alone.
“If all the hundred thousand devils were on our track,” he exclaimed, “I should not care a rap for it as I have enough to do to look after that obese old abbé who plays his tricks with the cards in the most artful way, and who robs me of my money. I almost suspect, Tournebroche, you call my attention to yonder coach for the purpose of aiding and abetting that old sharper. Cannot a carriage be on the same road as ours without causing you anxiety?”
Jahel whispered to me:
“I predict, Jacques, that yonder carriage brings trouble for us. I have a presentiment of it, and my presentiments have never failed to come true.”