'The Emperor knows how to reward his friends,' he added, 'and also how to punish his enemies.' All this time he had held his hand in his bosom, and now he drew it out so far as to show the brass gleam of a pistol butt.
'It is no use,' said he, in answer to some look in the other's eye.
'You stay in the hut, alive or dead.' Lesage put his hands to his face and began to cry with loud, helpless sobbings.
'Why, you have been worse than any of us, Charles,' he moaned.

'It was you who told Toussac to kill the man from Bow Street, and it was you also who set fire to the house in the Rue Basse de la Rampart.

And now you turn on us!' 'I did that because I wished to be the one to throw light upon it all--and at the proper moment.' 'That is very fine, Charles, but what will be thought about that when I make it all public in my own defence?
How can you explain all that to your Emperor?
There is still time to prevent my telling all that I know about you.' 'Well, really, I think that you are right, my friend,' said the other, drawing out his pistol and cocking it.

'Perhaps I _did_ go a little beyond my instructions in one or two points, and, as you very properly remark, there is still time to set it right.

It is a matter of detail whether I give you up living or give you up dead, and I think that, on the whole, it had better be dead.' It had been horrible to see Toussac tear the throat out of the hound, but it had not made my flesh creep as it crept now.