Once up, however, the lackey darted to the door.

In the distance he saw his late assailant running hard; the coach had disappeared.

He turned, and his smouldering eye fell upon the landlord.
"O pig!" he apostrophized him, snarling at him to vent some of his pent-up rage.

"O cowardly pig." "What would you ?" expostulated the frightened taverner.

"They had cut my throat if I resisted them." Rabecque poured abuse upon him, until for very lack of words he was forced to cease, then, with a final bark of contempt, he went to recover his sword, which had been flung into a corner of the room.