"I denounce that man as a proved spy and traitor!" he shouted, striding forward, and pointing a yellow finger of denunciation across the table at Marc, while the revellers over whom he leaned made way for him resentfully. "I demand his instant arrest."
"Gently, Monsieur l'Abbé," said de Ramezay. "These are serious charges to bring against French gentlemen, and friends of the Commander; have you proofs—such as will convince me after the closest scrutiny?" he added, with unmistakable significance.
"I have myself seen the proofs, I tell you," snarled the Abbé, beginning to exert more self-control, but still far unlike the cool, inexorable, smiling cynic who had so galled my soul with his imperturbability when I lay in his bonds beside the Forge.
"I would fain see them, too," insisted de Ramezay.
The priest glared at me, and then at Marc, baffled.
"I have them not," said he, in his slow and biting tones; "but if you would do your duty as the King's servant, Monsieur de Ramezay, and arrest yonder spy, you would doubtless find the proofs upon his person, if he has not taken the pains to dispose of them." Upon this insolent speech, de Ramezay took his seat, and left the priest standing alone. When, after a pause, he spoke, his voice was stern and masterful, as if he were addressing a contumacious servant, though he retained the forms of courtesy in his phrases.
"Monsieur," said he, "when I wish to learn my duty, it will not be the somewhat well-known Abbé la Garne whom I will ask to teach me. I must require you not to presume further upon the sacredness of your office. Your soutane saves you from being called to account by the gentleman whose honour you have aspersed. Monsieur Marc de Mer is the son of my friend. He is also one of my aides-de-camp. I beg that you will understand me without more words when I say that I have examined the whole matter to which you refer. For your own credit, press it no further. I trust you catch my meaning!"
"On the contrary," said the Abbé, coolly, being by this time quite himself again, and seemingly indifferent to the derisive faces confronting him—"on the contrary, your meaning altogether escapes me, Monsieur. All that I understand of your singular behaviour is what the Governor and the Intendant, not I their unworthy instrument, will be called to pass judgment upon."
"I will trouble you to understand also, Sir Priest," said de Ramezay, thoroughly aroused, his tones biting like acid, "that if this young man is further troubled by any of your faithful Shubenacadie flock, I will hold you responsible; and the fact that you are useful, having fewer scruples than trouble a mere layman, shall not save you."
"Be not disturbed for your spy, Monsieur," sneered the Abbé, now finely tranquil. "I wash my hands of all responsibility in regard to him; look you to that."