In a moment Valérie vaguely conceived that the power she had exercised over him no longer existed. It was possible that he was in possession of some information which removed all fear he had of her. Apprehensive lest he should have learned her secret, she continued to question him, in order, if possible, to ascertain how much he knew.
But he was as wary as herself, replying to her sarcasm with pointed retorts that puzzled her.
Pierre in the meantime stood silent and thoughtful. He, too, saw plainly that their scheme might be checkmated, and that they were on the horns of a serious dilemma. If Egerton imparted the secret to Hugh, the whole of their plans would be frustrated, besides placing them in a very undesirable position. Moreover, the artist had desired to know the reason he had assumed the name of Chavoix instead of his own, and inquiries upon that point, if pressed, might result in extremely awkward revelations. He was therefore trying to devise some feasible means by which to avert a catastrophe that seemed imminent.
“Then, you really mean to carry your threat into execution?” asked mademoiselle, after they had exchanged several sharp passages of words.
Jack Egerton declared that he did.
The colour vanished from her face, and she clenched her fists in anger.
“Dare to do so, and you will rue the consequences till your dying day. You little think how completely you are in my power, or the character of the evidence I hold against you—evidence which is beyond dispute, since you yourself admit your guilt. Remember that at once I could, if I chose, demand your arrest. If you provoke me, I shall adopt that course—”
“And expose your own villainy,” he remarked superciliously.
“I should adopt it as a measure of self-protection,” she replied, with calmness. “I assure you, however, I have no desire to resort to such a measure, and I have, therefore, a proposal to make,” she added.
“I have no desire to hear it.”