His eyes, which up to that moment had wandered about in a distrustful manner, glistened with delight, and he moved away a few paces to leave us to our conversation.
Biassou drew me on one side into a retired part of the cavern, and said in a low voice—
“I can only spare your life upon the condition that I proposed; are you ready to fulfil it?”
He showed me the dispatch of Jean François; to consent appeared to me too humiliating.
“Never,” answered I, firmly.
“Aha,” repeated he, with his sardonic chuckle, “are you always as firm? You have great confidence, then, in your protector. Do you know who he is?”
“I do,” answered I, quickly, “he is a monster, as you are, only he is a greater hypocrite.”
He started back in astonishment, seeking to read in my glance if I spoke seriously.
“What!” exclaimed he, “do you not know him then?”
With a disdainful look, I replied—