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It was De Chauxville's shot, and while keeping his eye on the bear, Paul glanced impatiently over his shoulder from time to time, wondering why the Frenchman did not fire. The bear was a huge one, and would probably carry three bullets and still be a dangerous adversary. The keeper muttered impatiently. They were watching Paul breathlessly. The bear was approaching him.
"And I am not such a fool, M. de Chauxville, as to allow myself to be dragged into a vulgar intrigue, borrowed from a French novel, to satisfy your vanity." De Chauxville's dull eyes suddenly flashed. "I will trouble you to believe, madame," he said, in a low, concentrated voice, "that such a thought never entered my head. A De Chauxville is not a commercial traveller, if you please.
"I would rather leave it to your own conscience," she said. "But I fail to see the danger you anticipate." "Then I accept, madame," said De Chauxville, with the engaging frankness which ever had a false ring in it. If the whole affair had been prearranged in Claude de Chauxville's mind, it certainly succeeded more fully than is usually the case with human schemes.
It was Claude de Chauxville's task to protect Paul from any flank or rear attack; and Claude de Chauxville was peering over his covert, watching with blanched face the second bear; and lifting no hand, making no sign. The bear was within a few yards of Paul, who was crouching behind the fallen pine and now raising his rifle to his shoulder.
"And you think," said De Chauxville, suppressing his excitement with an effort, "that the lady has risked every thing upon a supposition?" "Knowing the lady, I do." De Chauxville's dull eyes gleamed for a moment with an unwonted light. All the civilization of the ages will not eradicate the primary instincts of men and one of these, in good and bad alike, is to protect women.
The silence was only broken by their shuffling feet, by the startling report of each blow, by De Chauxville's repeated gasps of pain. The fur jacket was torn in several places. The white shirt appeared here and there. In one place it was stained with red. At last Steinmetz threw him huddled into one corner of the room. The chattering face, the wild eyes that looked up at him, were terrible to see.
He wrenched the pistol from De Chauxville's fingers and threw it into the corner of the room. Then he shook the man like a garment. "First," he cried, "you would kill Paul, and now you try to shoot me! Good God! what are you? You are no man. Do you know what I am going to do with you? I am going to thrash you like a dog!" He dragged him to the fire-place.
The attaché, as he was pleased to call himself, to the Russian Embassy, leant his arms on the table, bending forward and bringing his large, fleshy face within a few inches of De Chauxville's keen countenance. "That makes all the difference," he said. "I thought it would," answered De Chauxville, meeting the steady gaze firmly. St. Petersburg under snow is the most picturesque city in the world.
She was on her own territory at this work, playing her own game; and she was more alarmed by De Chauxville's imperturbability than by any thing he had said. "You have a strange way of proving the truth of your own statements." "What statements?" She gave a little laugh.
"I shot one when I was younger. I was immensely afraid, and so was the bear. I have a great desire to try again." Etta glanced at Paul, who returned De Chauxville's bland gaze with all the imperturbability of a prince. The countess's cackling voice broke in at this juncture, as perhaps De Chauxville had intended it to do. "Then why not come and shoot ours?" she said.
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