carry out. He would abuse Florence. He would sting her with his insults. He felt a bitter and painful need to hurt the odious creature.
But on reaching the Place du Palais-Bourbon he pulled up short. His practised eye had counted at a glance, on the right and left, a half-dozen men whose professional look there was no mistaking. And Mazeroux, who had caught sight of him, had spun round on his heel and was hiding under a gateway.
He called him:
"Mazeroux!"
The sergeant appeared greatly surprised to hear his name and came up to the car.
"Hullo, the Chief!"
His face expressed such embarrassment that Don Luis felt his fears taking definite shape.
"Look here, is it for me that you and your men are hanging about outside my house?"
"There's a notion, Chief," replied Mazeroux, looking very uncomfortable. "You know that you're in favour all right!"
Don Luis gave a start. He understood. Mazeroux had betrayed his confidence. To obey his scruples of conscience as well as to rescue the chief from the dangers of a fatal passion, Mazeroux had denounced Florence Levasseur.
Perenna clenched his fists in an effort of his whole being to stifle his boiling rage. It was a terrible blow. He received a sudden intuition of all the blunders which his mad jealousy had made him commit since the day before, and a presentiment of the irreparable disasters that might result from them. The conduct of events was slipping from him.
