As he left the room he cast a glance at his son: a glance of intense apprehension, which the child returned with one of the utmost confidence. He felt that Macabre was not ill-disposed toward him.
"Now, my boy," said the captain, "come here and tell me, if you can, who you are!"
"Faith, I don't know anything about it; captain," replied Mario, who had not had time as yet to forget the gypsy mode of speech; "I was stolen or picked up on the road somewhere by the dark-skinned devils called Egyptians."
"What can you do?"
"Three fine things," replied Mario, opportunely remembering La Flèche's lofty maxims: "fast, watch, and run; with that we can go a long way and get out of any scrape."
"He's a sharp boy," said Macabre, glancing at his lieutenant, who, to display his ill-humor, had turned his back on him, sitting astride his chair, his head and hands resting on the back, and his side to the fire. Macabre considered his position disrespectful, and told him so in cynical terms. Saccage rose without speaking and left the room.
Mario observed everything, and the discord between the two leaders seemed to him a good omen. He determined to take advantage of it, if possible, and if opportunity offered.
Macabre resumed the conversation with him.
"How does it happen," he said, "that I didn't see you at Brilbault last night?"
Mario was not long embarrassed by that question.