RENARD turned in a white rage towards the men, Paul and Jean, who were standing impatiently waiting for the result of the parley with the two lads.
"What can I do?" he whispered, his utterance thick with passion. "One cannot use force; there might be an outcry which would rouse the whole house. What then is to be done?"
Paul advanced a step and pushed him aside.
"Since you have failed, Renard, in your half of the bargain," said he, "you cannot expect to share in the profits. Go away now, you and these useless boys of yours."
"But Paul," exclaimed Foxy, "did I not—"
"No," interrupted Paul, "I will hear nothing."
And Jean added:
"Enough, Renard; go without more words. Your belongings which are in the cart we will leave at No. 9 in the village to-morrow. There—that is all we have to say to you—now go."
With a snarl of savage disappointment and rage, Renard, taking the boys by the arm, led them away down the dark, shady walk by which they had come, and out once more into the road, where, under the shadow of two great trees, stood the cart and the patient horse.
"Oh, but you weel pay for dis, mine sweet boys!" muttered Renard, as he dragged the reluctant lads along. "Yes, you weel pay for dis—as de English say—tro' de nose. Dis night you have make me lose lot of moneys, and old Renard, he forgives not; dat you shall remember for effer. Amen."