stood before the fire, a magnificent figure, with the axe held down by
his leg, and his head thrown back in defiance, so that his great black
beard bristled straight out in front of him. He said not a word, but
every fibre of his body was braced for a struggle. Then, as the howl of
the hound rose louder and clearer from the marsh outside, he ran forward
and threw open the door.

'No, no, keep the dog out!' cried Lesage in an agony of apprehension.

'You fool, our only chance is to kill it.'

'But it is in leash.'

'If it is in leash nothing can save us. But if, as I think, it is
running free, then we may escape yet.'

Lesage cowered up against the table, with his agonised eyes fixed upon
the blue-black square of the door. The man who had befriended me still
swayed his body about with a singular half-smile upon his face. His
skinny hand was twitching at the frill of his shirt, and I conjectured
that he held some weapon concealed there. Toussac stood between them
and the open door, and, much as I feared and loathed him, I could not
take my eyes from his gallant figure. As to myself, I was so much
occupied by the singular drama before me, and by the impending fate of
those three men of the cottage, that all thought of my own fortunes had
passed completely out of my mind. On this mean stage a terrible
all-absorbing drama was being played, and I, crouching in a squalid
recess, was to be the sole spectator of it. I could but hold my breath
and wait and watch.