“It is to be turned over to them as soon as M. le Comte and the women are taken prisoner,” continued Pasdeloup without noticing the interruption. “Nor is that all. They are to be permitted to seize M. le Comte and to use him as the mob of Paris has already used so many.”
“Nonsense, Pasdeloup!” repeated his master; but his face had paled a little. “Where did you hear such absurdities?”
For answer, Pasdeloup pointed along the empty corridor.
“Where are your people, M. le Comte?” he asked. “None here—none below—search the whole house and you will find not one. An hour ago they stole away along the road to Dange. I alone could not be bribed or frightened into joining them.”
His master stared at him for a moment, then down the empty corridor, his face of a sudden gray and haggard, as the truth was borne in upon him.
“All?” he repeated hoarsely. “All? Even Joseph? Even Marcelle?”
“Yes, monsieur,” said Pasdeloup, laughing grimly. “Even Joseph. Even Marcelle. I do not say that they wished to go. I only know that they were afraid to stay. Where it is a question of one’s life or another’s, one saves oneself. That is human nature.”
M. le Comte stood yet a moment with bent head, as though struck by a heavy blow.
“And you?” he asked at last, looking at Pasdeloup.
Again Pasdeloup laughed grimly.