There would be pursuit, perhaps; he might have to fight--but he was willing, and a trifle anxious, to fight.
He went to bed that night, and dreamed of things that were to happen.

A second day, a third night, and a third day came.

With each hour grew his anxiety for Jean's return.

At times he was almost feverish to have the affair over with.

He was confident of the outcome, and yet he did not fail to take the Frenchman's true measurement.