Malsain rose slowly, and went outside, and Pierrebon, following him with his glance, saw Piero's huge figure in the moonlight, and a chill came upon him.
"By St. Hugo! 'tis the ogre himself! And they consult together!" he murmured, wishing himself a hundred miles away, and he watched the twain moving off into the shadow, straining his ears to catch a word if possible, but at first he could hear nothing. Thus a minute or so passed, whilst the evil pair outside stood in the shadow of a copper beech whispering together. If Pierrebon could but hear a word to guide him! He dared not attempt to approach them, but was forced to stay where he was. At last he caught something. Malsain laughed out like a hyena: "I would slit their throats for fifty, and throw the Vidame into that——" But Piero roughly bade him lower his voice, and the whispering continued.
Pierrebon heard no more. That there was danger in the air he knew. He had not forgotten my warning pressure on his arm as we entered the gates of Le Jaquemart, and now his worst fears were confirmed. For a moment his heart sank, but for a moment only, for as he looked around him his eyes fell on the arquebus, where it leaned against the wall. The fuse was still alight. There was no time to hesitate. Malsain was already returning; and if it were to be war Pierrebon thought he might as well begin, and strike the first blow. Quick as thought he arose, and taking up the arquebus moved off near the horses, and he was blowing on the match to hearten the fire when Malsain stepped in.
"Blood of a Jew! what are you doing with the arquebus, fool? Put it down this instant, or I slit your throat." And Malsain, his poniard in his hand, stood near the table, glaring savagely at Pierrebon.
"Pardon!" said Pierrebon. "I was but looking at it. 'Tis a noble weapon. And one well suited to a soldier's hand."
"It could kill too, I wager," said Pierrebon, laughing, as he raised the weapon, and pointed it at Malsain, who went back the step he had taken, saying, with an oath,
"It is loaded, fool! Put it down at once."
"Hein! it is loaded. It would kill, then, if I fired—eh?" And then, with a sudden change of voice and manner: "Ah, bandit! move a step, utter the slightest cry, and you are a dead man! Throw down your poniard!"
Malsain looked at the barrel of the arquebus. It was steady as a rock, and behind the little black muzzle the match burned bravely; whilst behind the match was a red face with two blue eyes that looked as if they meant what their owner said. Malsain let his dagger drop with a clash.
Pierrebon then advanced a couple of paces nearer, still holding the arquebus at Malsain's breast.