The baron and the young men walked rapidly along the narrow way and saw the dog in front of the hovel. Vaillant’s eyes were gleaming; he threw himself against the door, scratched at it with his claws, and his barking redoubled in force and fury.
"What does this mean?" cried Edouard; "does not Vaillant’s frenzy indicate that that house contains his assassin? Look! look! he will not leave that door; he looks at us to urge us to second his efforts."
"But we examined this house once," said the baron.
"No matter; it cannot be without some reason that that faithful servant insists on entering that wretched place. O my God! suppose we should find Isaure in this hole!"
"Open! open!" cried Alfred, pounding on the door. But nobody replied; there was no sound to be heard within. Notwithstanding, Vaillant’s anger seemed to wax greater with every moment; his prolonged barking echoed loudly among the cliffs, and the three travellers determined to enter the old hut, peaceably or by force.
After the dog began to bark, a ghastly scene took place inside the second hovel. The vagabond was alone with the girl; the old shepherd had gone to the nearest village to obtain provisions. At the dog’s first howl, Isaure’s companion ran to the door and looked out; he recognized Vaillant; instantly a cold perspiration came out on his forehead; he felt that he was lost, that Isaure’s retreat would be discovered, because no human power could force the dog to leave that house until he had found his assailant. Soon the baron’s voice and the shouts of the young men fully convinced him that he could no longer keep the girl concealed from them, for Vaillant would surely show them the secret entrance to Isaure’s hiding-place. It was impossible for him to fly with his prisoner; he could not leave the excavation and reach the top of the cliff. In an instant the vagabond realized his position, and thereupon he formed a ghastly resolution. He returned to the inner house, carefully secured the passage of communication and joined the girl, who was listening in the most intense excitement to the barking of the dog, saying in an undertone:
"O mon Dieu! I should think that it was Vaillant! Can it be that heaven has sent me a preserver? Is my faithful companion not dead?"
"Yes! it is he, in truth," said the vagabond in threatening tones, glaring at the girl with a terrifying expression; "but instead of saving you, that dog will be the cause of your destruction!"
"Great heaven! what do you mean? why do you look at me like that?" said Isaure with a shudder.
The vagabond took his sword and walked toward the girl, seized one of her hands, which she raised tremblingly in appeal to him, and said to her: