He advanced towards Judas with clenched fists, whereupon the Frenchman, with a look of fear on his gray face, recoiled against the wall. But not even the threatening attitude of the young man could restrain the gibing devil that possessed this villain, and with a shrill scream of laughter he went on with his insults.
"For me the box, monsieur. But certainly, you are wise—you are very wise. Come, now, if you are bold—I hide not the truth, I declare—if your angel is not the one who killed the dear Melstane, say, who is it? Declare the name."
Roger, with glittering eyes, and a fierce look on his face, would have sprung on Judas and caught him by the throat, when the answer to the question came from a most unexpected quarter.
Outside the room there was a shrill scream, the heavy tramping of feet, and a woman in her nightgown dashed madly into their midst.
It was Florry Marson!
In her eyes shone the fever of insanity, on her dry lips a fearful laugh of horrible laughter, and she whirled round and round in the middle of the room like a Maenad, while Japix, who had followed her, tried vainly to approach.
"God! How like her mother!"
The cry of horror came from the lips of Marson, who was holding a glass of water to the lips of Judith; but his daughter did not hear him. With a shriek she stopped her insensate whirling, and dashed forward with distorted features to Monsieur Judas.
"Hold her! hold her!" cried Japix, "she is mad—raving."
Judas was too terrified to do anything, and stood nerveless and paralysed, facing this ghastly spectre with the loose hair, the frantic gestures, and blazing eyes.