"No. She seemed so happy at meeting a friend of her husband's. But you will speak to her about it, will you not? You will protect her. . . . I don't know what he is preparing against her, against myself. . . . Now that M. Lenormand is no longer there, he has nothing to fear, he does as he pleases. Who can unmask him?"
"I can. I will be responsible for everything. But not a word to anybody."
They had reached the porter's lodge. The gate was opened. The prince said:
"Good-bye, Geneviève, and be quite easy in your mind. I am there."
He shut the gate, turned round and gave a slight start. Opposite him stood the man with the eye-glass, Baron Altenheim, with his head held well up, his broad shoulders, his powerful frame.
They looked at each other for two or three seconds, in silence. The baron smiled.
Then the baron said:
"I was waiting for you, Lupin."
For all his self-mastery, Sernine felt a thrill pass over him. He had come to unmask his adversary; and his adversary had unmasked him at the first onset. And, at the same time, the adversary was accepting the contest boldly, brazenly, as though he felt sure of victory. It was a swaggering thing to do and gave evidence of no small amount of pluck.
The two men, violently hostile one to the other, took each other's measure with their eyes.