The man staggered up with his hands dripping, and the tawny mass with
the blotch of crimson lay motionless upon the floor.
'Now!' cried Toussac in a voice of thunder, 'now!' and he rushed from
the hut.
Lesage had shrunk away into the corner in a frenzy of fear whilst
Toussac had been killing the hound, but now he raised his agonised face,
which was as wet as if he had dipped it into a basin.
'Yes, yes,' he cried; 'we must fly, Charles. The hound has left the
police behind, and we may still escape.'
But the other, with the same imperturbable face, motionless save for the
rhythm of his jaw muscles, walked quietly over and closed the door upon
the inside.
'I think, friend Lucien,' said he in his quiet voice, 'that you had best
stay where you are.'
Lesage looked at him with amazement gradually replacing terror upon his
pallid features.
'But you do not understand, Charles,' he cried.
'Oh, yes, I think I do,' said the other, smiling.
'They may be here in a few minutes. The hound has slipped its leash,
you see, and has left them behind in the marsh; but they are sure to
come here, for there is no other cottage but this.
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