This excess of impudence rendered the worthy captain speechless a moment, then, putting his hand on his sword, he was about to attack Hadji, when the overseer reminded him that the Bohemian was under his protection by order of the commander.
“There is another place where we will meet, you villain,” said Luquin, “and that will be under the gallows where you will be hanged; for, zounds! although the office of executioner is repugnant to me, I would sell my polacre even to have the right to put the rope around your neck.”
“Ingrate, you do not think of the grief you would bring upon Stephanette; the poor girl loves me so much that she would die of sorrow to see me hanged, and especially by you.”
“You lie, you lie like a dog. Oh, that I could tear your cursed tongue out by the roots!”
“You would be right, my boy, to tear out my tongue, for it was my honeyed words which opened the way to this pretty girl’s heart A little while ago, on board my chebec where she was with me, she said, as she leaned her head on my shoulder—”
“You lie, you blaspheme!” cried Luquin, in fury.
“She said, as she leaned her head on my shoulder,” continued the Bohemian, with imperturbable coolness, “‘What a difference, my handsome captain, between your gallant and charming language, and the tiresome twittering of that long-legged heron that flutters around me so clumsily.’ That is the way she spoke of you, my poor boy.”
“Here, overseer,” exclaimed Luquin, pale with rage, “permit me to cut this villain’s face with a few blows of my sabre scabbard.”
“If his words wound you, do not listen to them,” answered the overseer. “The commander entrusted this pagan to me, and I cannot permit any one to do him harm.”
Luquin uttered a groan of concentrated wrath.