It might
be a mere pleasantry, and then how should he look if he were to
offer an unnecessary warning? Or again, if it were serious, the
criminal might be his own father, and then how should he not lament
if he were to bring ruin on the author of his days? For the first
time he became conscious of his own position as a spy. To wait
inactive at such a juncture and with such a conflict of sentiments
in his bosom was to suffer the most acute torture; he clung to the
bars of the shutters, his heart beat fast and with irregularity,
and he felt a strong sweat break forth upon his body.
Several minutes passed.
He seemed to perceive the conversation die away and grow less and
less in vivacity and volume; but still no sign of any alarming or
even notable event.
Suddenly the ring of a glass breaking was followed by a faint and
dull sound, as of a person who should have fallen forward with his
head upon the table. At the same moment a piercing scream rose
from the garden.
"What have you done?" cried Miss Vandeleur. "He is dead!"
The Dictator replied in a violent whisper, so strong and sibilant
that every word was audible to the watcher at the window.
"Silence!' said Mr. Vandeleur; "the man is as well as I am. Take
him by the heels whilst I carry him by the shoulders."
Francis heard Miss Vandeleur break forth into a passion of tears.
"Do you hear what I say?" resumed the Dictator, in the same tones.
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