“That is my business,” said Raoul with cool impertinence.
Louis seized the young man’s wrists, and almost crushed them in his vicelike grasp.
“Explain this strange conduct of yours,” he said, in a tone of suppressed rage. “What do you mean by it?”
Without apparent effort Raoul released his hands from their imprisonment, and jeeringly said:
“Hein! Gently, my friend! I don’t like being roughly treated; and, if you don’t know how to behave yourself, I have the means of teaching you.”
At the same time he drew a revolver from his pocket.
“You must and shall explain yourself,” insisted Louis: “if you don’t——”
“Well, if I don’t? Now, you might just as well spare yourself the trouble of trying to frighten me. I intend to answer your questions when I choose; but it certainly won’t be here, in the middle of the road, with the bright moonlight showing us off to advantage. How do you know people are not watching us this very minute? Come this way.”
They strode through the fields, regardless of Gaston’s plants, which were trampled under foot in order to take a short cut.
“Now,” began Raoul, when they were at a safe distance from the road, “now, my dear uncle, I will tell you what brings me here. I have received and carefully read your letters. I read them over again. You wished to be prudent; and the consequence was, that your letters were unintelligible. Only one thing did I understand clearly: we are in danger.”