The features of the ex-cook were convulsed with fury; he was in that mad state of rage in which a man has no control over himself. Mechanically his hand slipped into his pocket; but before he could draw it out again, Tantaine who had not lost one of his movements, sprang upon him and grasped him so tightly by the throat that he was powerless to adopt any offensive measures, in spite of his great strength and robust build. The struggle was not a long one; the old man hurled his adversary to the ground, and placed his foot on his chest, and held him down, his whole face and figure seemingly transfigured with the glories of strength and success. “And so you wished to stab me,--to murder a poor and inoffensive old man. Do you think that I was fool enough to enter your cut-throat door without taking proper precautions?” And as he spoke he drew a revolver from his bosom. “Throw away your knife,” added he sternly. In obedience to this mandate, Perpignan, who was now entirely demoralized, threw the sharp-pointed weapon which he had contrived to open in his pocket into a corner of the room. “Good,” said Tantaine. “You are growing more reasonable now. Of course I came alone, but do you think that plenty of people did not know where I was going to? Had I not returned to-night, do you think that my master, M. Mascarin, would have been satisfied? and how long do you think it would have been before he and the police would have been here. If you do not do all that I wish for the rest of your life, you will be the most ungrateful fellow in the world.” Perpignan was deeply mortified; he had been worsted in single combat, and now he was being found out, and these things had never happened to him before. “Well, I suppose that I must give in,” answered he sulkily. “Quite so; it is a pity that you did not think of that before.” “You vexed me and made me angry.” “Just so; well, now, get up, take that chair, and let us talk reasonably.” Perpignan obeyed without a word. “Now,” said Tantaine, “I came here with a really magnificent proposal. But I adopted the course I pursued because I wished to prove to you that _you_ belonged more absolutely to Mascarin than did your wretched foreign slaves to you. You are absolutely at his mercy, and he can crush you to powder whenever he likes.” “Your Mascarin is Satan himself,” muttered the discomfited man. “Who can resist him?” “Come, as you think thus, we can talk sensibly at last.” “Well,” answered Perpignan ruefully, as he adjusted his disordered necktie, “say what you like, I have no answer to make.” “Let us begin at the commencement,” said Tantaine. “For some days past your people have been following a certain Caroline Schimmel. A fellow of sixteen called Ambrose, a lad with a harp, was told off for this duty. He is not to be trusted. Only a night or two ago one of my men made him drunk; and fearing lest his absence might create surprise, drove him here in a cab, and left him at the corner.”