But Clon, waving a scrap of the stuff in either hand, and thrusting his ghastly mask into the other’s face, shook his head in passionate denial. He could not speak, but he made it as clear as daylight that if anyone went back with the news, he was the man to go.
‘Nonsense!’ the landlord rejoined fiercely, ‘We cannot leave Antoine to go on alone with him. Give me the stuff.’
But Clon would not. He had no thought of resigning the credit of the discovery; and I began to think that the two would really come to blows. But there was an alternative—an alternative in which I was concerned; and first one and then the other looked at me. It was a moment of peril, and I knew it. My stratagem might react on myself, and the two, to put an end to their difficulty, agree to put an end to me. But I faced them so coolly, and showed so bold a front, and the ground where we stood was so open, that the idea took no root. They fell to wrangling again more viciously than before. One tapped his gun and the other his pistols. The landlord scolded, the dumb man gurgled. At last their difference ended as I had hoped it would.
‘Very well then, we will both go back!’ the innkeeper cried in a rage. ‘And Antoine must see him on. But the blame be on your head. Do you give the lad your pistols.’
Clon took one pistol, and gave it to the shock-headed man.
‘The other!’ the innkeeper said impatiently.
But Clon shook his head with a grim smile, and pointed to the arquebuss.
By a sudden movement, the landlord snatched the pistol, and averted Clon’s vengeance by placing both it and the gun in the shock-headed man’s hands.
‘There!’ he said, addressing the latter, ‘now can you do? If Monsieur tries to escape or turn back, shoot him! But four hours’ riding should bring you to the Roca Blanca. You will find the men there, and will have no more to do with it.’
Antoine did not see things quite in that light, however. He looked at me, and then at the wild track in front of us; and he muttered an oath and said he would die if he would.