He wheeled about.
"Only tell me, Gaston, is it to right or left?"
"No, no! Come here. You must first know why I have started off this morning. In a word, we are going to catch the hag!"
An expression of supreme satisfaction lighted up the long, bronzed face of the old steward; his eyes sparkled.
"Ha, ha!" he exclaimed; "I knew it would come to that sooner or later."
With a movement of his shoulder, he slipped his rifle into his hand. This significant movement opened my eyes.
"One moment, Sperver. We are not going to kill the Black Plague; we are going to take her alive."
"Alive!"
"Precisely; and to spare you future regrets, I warn you that the destiny of the old creature is identified with our master's. The ball that strikes her down kills the Count."
Sperver sat open-mouthed with amazement.