Part 9 (1/2)
”Claims,” I answered, ”which I can a.s.sure you I am not in a position to dispute.”
”How is it, then,” he asked fiercely, ”that I find you two, strangers last night, together to-day here?”
I altered one of the cartridges in my revolver and let it go with a snap. Bartot took a quick step backwards.
”It is a long story,” I said softly, ”and I doubt whether it would interest you, Monsieur Bartot. Still, if you are really curious, mademoiselle will satisfy you later.”
I saw a look pa.s.s between the two, and I no longer had any doubt whatever. I knew that they were in collusion, that I had been brought here to be pumped by mademoiselle.
”Monsieur,” Bartot said, ”you are apparently armed, and you can leave this room if you will, but I warn you that you will not leave Paris so easily.”
The situation was quite plain to me. However little flattering it might be to my vanity, I should not have been in the least surprised if Monsieur Bartot had held out his hands, begged my pardon, and ordered a bottle of wine.
”Be reasonable, monsieur,” I begged. ”It is open to every one, surely, to admire mademoiselle? For the rest, I have been here only a few moments. So far as I am concerned,” I added, glancing at the table, ”mademoiselle has lunched alone.”
”If I could believe that!” Bartot muttered, with a look of coming friends.h.i.+p in his eyes.
”Mademoiselle will a.s.sure you,” I continued.
”Then what are you doing here?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrows.
”I was not aware,” I said, ”that this was a private restaurant.”
”But these are private rooms,” he answered. ”Still, if it was a mistake,--I trust mademoiselle always.”
She held out her hands to him with a theatrical gesture.
”Henri,” she cried, ”you could not doubt me! It is impossible!”
”You are right,” he answered quickly. ”I was too hasty.”
I smiled upon them both.
”Mademoiselle,” I said, ”I am sorry that our pleasant little conversation has been interrupted. Believe me, though, to be always your devoted slave.”
I opened the door. Monsieur Bartot turned towards me. I am convinced that he was about to offer me his hand and to call for that bottle of wine. I felt, however, that flight was safest. I went out and closed the door.
”The bill, monsieur?” a waiter called after me as I descended the stairs.
I gave him five francs for a _pour boire_.
”Monsieur there will pay,” I told him, pointing towards the room.
CHAPTER VIII
LOUIS INSISTS