The priest glared at me, and then at Marc, baffled. "I have them not," said he, in his slow and biting tones; "but if you would do your duty as the King's servant, Monsieur de Ramezay, and arrest yonder spy, you would doubtless find the proofs upon his person, if he has not taken the pains to dispose of them." Upon this insolent speech, de Ramezay took his seat, and left the priest standing alone. When, after a pause, he spoke, his voice was stern and masterful, as if he were addressing a contumacious servant, though he retained the forms of courtesy in his phrases. "Monsieur," said he, "when I wish to learn my duty, it will not be the somewhat well-known Abbe la Garne whom I will ask to teach me. I must require you not to presume further upon the sacredness of your office. Your soutane saves you from being called to account by the gentleman whose honour you have aspersed. Monsieur Marc de Mer is the son of my friend. He is also one of my aides-de-camp. I beg that you will understand me without more words when I say that I have examined the whole matter to which you refer. For your own credit, press it no further. I trust you catch my meaning!" "On the contrary," said the Abbe, coolly, being by this time quite himself again, and seemingly indifferent to the derisive faces confronting him--"on the contrary, your meaning altogether escapes me, Monsieur. All that I understand of your singular behaviour is what the Governor and the Intendant, not I their unworthy instrument, will be called to pass judgment upon." "I will trouble you to understand also, Sir Priest," said de Ramezay, thoroughly aroused, his tones biting like acid, "that if this young man is further troubled by any of your faithful Shubenacadie flock, I will hold you responsible; and the fact that you are useful, having fewer scruples than trouble a mere layman, shall not save you." "Be not disturbed for your spy, Monsieur," sneered the Abbe, now finely tranquil. "I wash my hands of all responsibility in regard to him; look you to that." For the space of some seconds there was silence all about that table of feasting, while the Abbe swept a smiling, bitter glance around the room. Last, his eyes rested upon mine and leaped with a sudden light of triumph, so that one might have thought not he but I had been worsted in the present encounter. Then he turned on his heel and went out, scornful of courtesy. A clamour of talk arose upon this most cherished departure; but I heard it as in a dream, being wrapped up in wonder as to the meaning of that look of triumph. "Has the Black Abbe cast a spell upon you, Father?" I heard Marc inquiring presently. Whereupon I came to myself with a kind of start, and made merry with the rest of them. It was late when Marc and I went to the little chamber where our pallets were stretched. There we found Tamin awaiting us. He was in a sweat of fear. "What is it, my Tamin?" asked Marc.