The man who had befriended me still swayed his body about with a singular half-smile upon his face.

His skinny hand was twitching at the frill of his shirt, and I conjectured that he held some weapon concealed there.

Toussac stood between them and the open door, and, much as I feared and loathed him, I could not take my eyes from his gallant figure.

As to myself, I was so much occupied by the singular drama before me, and by the impending fate of those three men of the cottage, that all thought of my own fortunes had passed completely out of my mind.

On this mean stage a terrible all-absorbing drama was being played, and I, crouching in a squalid recess, was to be the sole spectator of it.