Captain Stewart's hands shook a little as he gripped them together behind him, and a dew of perspiration stood out suddenly upon his forehead and cheek-bones, but his voice, when he spoke, was well under control.
"It's an odd thing," said he--"another miracle, if you like--but I believe we are safe--reasonably safe. I--have reason to think that this fellow learned about La Lierre only last evening from some one who left Paris to-day to be gone a long time. And I also have reason to believe that the fellow has not seen the one friend who is in his confidence, since he obtained his information. By chance I met the friend, the other man, in the street this afternoon. I asked after this fellow whom we have here, and the friend said he hadn't seen him for twenty-four hours--was going to see him to-night."
"By the Lord!" cried the Irishman, with a great laugh of relief. "What luck! What monumental luck! If all that's true, we're safe. Why, man, we're as safe as a fox in his hole. The lad's friends won't have the ghost of an idea of where he's gone to.... Wait, though! Stop a bit! He won't have left written word behind him, eh? He won't have done that--for safety?"
"I think not," said Captain Stewart, but he breathed hard, for he knew well enough that there lay the gravest danger. "I think not," he said again.
He made a rather surprisingly accurate guess at the truth--that Ste. Marie had started out upon impulse, without intending more than a general reconnaissance, and therefore without leaving any word behind him. Still, the shadow of danger uplifted itself before the man and he was afraid. A sudden gust of weak anger shook him like a wind.
"In Heaven's name," he cried, shrilly, "why didn't that one-eyed fool kill the fellow while he was about it? There's danger for us every moment while he is alive here. Why didn't that shambling idiot kill him?"
Captain Stewart's outflung hand jumped and trembled and his face was twisted into a sort of grinning snarl. He looked like an angry and wicked cat, the other man thought.
"If I weren't an over-civilized fool," he said, viciously, "I'd go up-stairs and kill him now with my hands while he can't help himself. We're all too scrupulous by half."
The Irishman stared at him and presently broke into amazed laughter.
"Scrupulous!" said he. "Well, yes, I'm too scrupulous to murder a man in his bed, if you like. I'm not squeamish, but--Good Lord!"