‘I do not say; I ask!’ he replied, facing me squarely, and slapping his fist into his open hand to drive home his words the better. ‘I ask you whether you are playing the traitor to the Cardinal, or to these two women? It is a simple question.’ I fairly choked. ‘You impudent scoundrel!’ I said. ‘Steady, steady!’ he replied. ‘Pitch sticks where it belongs, and nowhere else. But that is enough. I see which it is, M. le Capitaine; this way a moment, by your leave.’ And in a very cavalier fashion he took his officer by the arm, and drew him into a sidewalk, leaving me to stand in the sun, bursting with anger and spleen. The gutter-bred rascal! That such a man should insult me, and with impunity! In Paris, I might have made him fight, but here it was impossible. I was still foaming with rage when they returned. ‘We have come to a determination,’ the Lieutenant said, tugging his grey moustachios, and standing like a ramrod. ‘We shall leave you the house and Madame, and you can take your own line to find the man, for ourselves, we shall draw off our men to the village, and we shall take our line. That is all, M. le Capitaine, is it not?’ ‘I think so,’ the Captain muttered, looking anywhere but at me. ‘Then we bid you good-day, Monsieur,’ the Lieutenant added, and in a moment he turned his companion round, and the two retired up the walk to the house, leaving me to look after them in a black fit of rage and incredulity. At the first flush, there was something so offensive in the manner of their going that anger had the upper hand. I thought of the Lieutenant’s words, and I cursed him to hell with a sickening consciousness that I should not forget them in a hurry. ‘Was I playing the traitor to the Cardinal or to these women--which?’ MON DIEU! if ever question--but there, some day I would punish him. And the Captain? I could put an end to his amusement, at any rate; and I would. Doubtless among the country bucks of Auch he lorded it as a chief provincial bully, but I would cut his comb for him some fine morning behind the barracks. And then as I grew cooler I began to wonder why they were going, and what they were going to do. They might be already on the track, or have the information they required under hand; in that case I could understand the movement. But if they were still searching vaguely, uncertain whether their quarry were in the neighbourhood or not, and uncertain how long they might have to stay, it seemed incredible that soldiers should move from good quarters to bad without motive.