"You lie, coquin," he yelled, "you vile traducer of a trusted servant of the State. I know not what you mean. But I will soon silence your perjured tongue."
And he laid his hand upon his sword and half drew it from its sheath, at the same time taking a step forward. But Desmartins interposed, and laid his hand on the police agent's arm.
"No violence, Monsieur, I beg," he said. "It is not to be permitted. I am responsible for the prisoner's safety, and you shall not do him hurt." And he placed himself between the men.
The sword dropped back into its scabbard, and Vipont, scowling, removed his grasp from it. He glared furiously at St. Just.
"Why does he insult me, then," he snarled, "the gredin? But let him wait, the coward, till I have the opportunity of chastising him. Then we shall see."
"As you say," St. Just calmly interposed, "we shall see. But I care not to bandy further words with you; and surely you are forgetting your appointment." And, to show that conversation on his part was at an end, he turned his back on Vipont and took a step or two away.
The police spy shook his fist in menace at St. Just; then, with the words, "Au revoir, coquin," he turned on his heel and quitted the cell, followed by the jailer, who took with him the lantern, leaving St. Just to darkness and his thoughts.
For a while, he remained motionless where he stood, listening to the retreating footsteps of his late companions. At last, they died away, and the silence that ensued was deathlike.
"Will Halima hear what has befallen me?" he mused. "And how will she act if she do hear it? Will she leave me to my fate? No, no, she could not be so cruel!"
He paced restlessly about, tortured by the reflections that assailed him. Beneath his conviction of her love for him there always lurked a doubt of her fidelity. He did not forget that, on their meeting after nearly four years' separation, she had looked more radiantly beautiful than ever; there had been no evidence in her appearance that she had bewailed his loss; and he did not doubt that, in his absence, she had consoled herself with other lovers, and, in like circumstances, would do so again. She had frankly admitted that the indulgence of her passions was a necessity of her life. The thought threw him into a fever of impatience and rebellion at his helplessness, and he began to cast about for a means of informing her of his predicament.