"But as for these hounds----" He stepped over to the two Cossacks, who lay mute.

He bent over them with such a look of rage, ruthless determination and evil purpose in his face as startled the woman into action.
"Monsieur!" she cried, stepping over to him and striving to interpose between him and the two men.

"Marteau, what would you do ?" "My sister--dead in the cottage yonder after--after----" he choked out.
He stopped, his fingers twitching.

"My old father! If I served them right I would pitch them into yonder fireplace or torture them, the dogs, the cowards!" "My friend," said the young Countess gently, laying her hand on his arm.
Marteau threw up his hands, that touch recalled him to his senses.
"I will let them alone for the present," he said.

"Meanwhile----" He seized the dead man and dragged the body out of sight behind the tables.
"Will monsieur give a thought to me ?" came another voice from the dim recesses of a far corner.
"And who are you ?" asked Marteau, lifting the light and staring.
"A Frenchman, sir.