Shangois did not stir, nor show by even the wink of an eyelid that he
recognised the laughter, or thought that he was being laughed at.
Presently Ferrol sat down and looked at Shangois without speaking, as
Shangois looked at him. He smiled more than once, however, as the
thought recurred to him.
"Well?" he said at last.
"What if she finds out about the five thousand dollars--eh, m'sieu'?"
Ferrol was completely dumfounded. The brief question covered so much
ground--showed a knowledge of the whole case. Like Conscience itself,
the little black notary had gone straight to the point, struck home.
He was keen enough, however, had sufficient self-command, not to betray
himself, but remained unmoved outwardly, and spoke calmly.
"Is that your business--to go round the parish asking conundrums?" he
said coolly. "I can't guess the answer to that one, can you?"
Shangois hated cowards, and liked clever people--people who could answer
him after his own fashion. Nearly everybody was afraid of his tongue and
of him. He knew too much; which was a crime.
"I can find out," he replied, showing his teeth a little.
"Then you're not quite sure yourself, little devilkin?"
"The girl is a riddle.
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