The night was clear, and Louis recognized Raoul.
"What is the matter?" he impatiently demanded; "what has happened?"
"Nothing."
"What! Do you mean to say that nothing has gone wrong in Paris--that no
one is on our track?"
"Not the slightest danger of any sort. And moreover, but for your
inordinate greed of gain, everything would have succeeded admirably; all
was going on well when I left Paris."
"Then why have you come here?" cried Louis fiercely. "Who gave you
permission to desert your post, when your absence might bring ruin upon
us? What brought you here?"
"That is my business," said Raoul with cool impertinence.
Louis seized the young man's wrists, and almost crushed them in his
vicelike grasp.
"Explain this strange conduct of yours," he said, in a tone of
suppressed rage. "What do you mean by it?"
Without apparent effort Raoul released his hands from their
imprisonment, and jeeringly said:
"Hein! Gently, my friend! I don't like being roughly treated; and, if
you don't know how to behave yourself, I have the means of teaching
you.
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