M. de Tregars made a gesture of discouragement.
“I might as well give up the fight, then,” he said, “and try to compromise.”
“Why so? We don’t know what may happen. Keep quiet, be patient; I am here, and I am looking out for squalls.”
He got up and prepared to leave.
“You have more experience than I have,” said M. de Tregars; “and, since that’s your opinion——”
M. d’Escajoul had resumed all his good humor.
“Very well, then, it’s understood,” he said, pressing M. de Tregars’ hand. “I am watching for both of us; and if I see a chance, I come at once, and you act.”
But the outer door had hardly closed, when suddenly the countenance of Marius de Tregars changed. Shaking the hand which M. d’Escajoul had just touched,—“Pouah!” he said with a look of thorough disgust,—“pouah!”
And noticing Maxence’s look of utter surprise,
“Don’t you understand,” he said, “that this old rascal has been sent to me by Thaller to feel my intentions, and mislead me by false information? I had scented him, fortunately; and, if either one of us is dupe of the other, I have every reason to believe that it will not be me.”