‘Then M. de Rosny was wrong, was he?’ I said, giving way to my anger.
‘If it please you,’ he answered pertly.
This was too much for me. My riding-switch lay handy, and I snatched it up. Before he knew what I would be at, I fell upon him, and gave him such a sound wholesome drubbing as speedily brought him to his senses. When he cried for mercy—which he did not for a good space, being still possessed by the peevish devil which had ridden him ever since his departure from Rosny—I put it to him again whether M. de Rosny was not right. When he at last admitted this, but not till then, I threw the whip away and let him go, but did not cease to reproach him as he deserved.
‘Did you think,’ I said, ‘that I was going to be ruined because you would not use your lazy brains? That I was going to sit still, and let you sulk, while mademoiselle walked blindfold into the toils? Not at all, my friend!’
‘Mademoiselle!’ he exclaimed, looking at me with a sudden change of countenance, end ceasing to rub himself and scowl, as he had been doing. ‘She is not here, and is in no danger.’
‘She will be here to-morrow, or the next day,’ I said.
You did not tell me that!’ he replied, his eyes glittering. ‘Does Father Antoine know it?’
‘He will know it the moment she enters the town,’ I answered.
Noting the change which the introduction of mademoiselle’s name into the affair had wrought in him, I felt something like humiliation. But at the moment I had no choice; it was my business to use such instruments as came to my hand, and not, mademoiselle’s safety being at stake, to pick and choose too nicely. In a few minutes our positions were reversed. The lad had grown as hot as I cold, as keenly excited as I critical. When he presently came to a stand in front of me, I saw a strange likeness between his face and the priest’s; nor was I astonished when he presently made just such a proposal as I should have expected from Father Antoine himself.
‘There is only one thing for it,’ he muttered, trembling all over. ‘He must be got rid of!’