"Before I speak," said the boy, with great presence of mind, "I must know to whom I am speaking."
"Diable!" said the stranger with a scornful smile, "we are a very wary youth; that is well enough! This is the countersign: Saccage and Macabre. What name has been given you?"
"La Flèche," replied Mario, at random.
"What? what is that?" said the Italian frowning. "There's no rhyme there."
"Wait!" cried Mario, inspired by that reply, "that isn't all. Isn't there a pillage in your countersign?"
"That rhymes better," said the other, smiling dismally; "but that isn't all yet, you little monkey! Your memory is failing you!"
"Perhaps so," said the child; "there's another word, I know. Isn't it Sancho?"
"There we are! Now then, stand in this corner and don't stir. I am Lieutenant Saccage; Captain Macabre will be here in a quarter of an hour. He's the one to whom you must give your message, which I care very little about, for my part. I say, you fellows, hold your tongues!" he shouted to the horsemen, who were going to and fro around the house, talking a little louder than seemed to be necessary.
Profound silence ensued, and he who styled himself Lieutenant Saccage said to Mario, who was meditating upon the means of gaining admittance to another room, to find his father or someone who could give him some news of him:
"My good friend, it is well that you should know the countersign, for your protection. We send away or arrest everyone who tries to enter this house; we fire on everyone who tries to go out. Do you understand that?"