I had almost told something of my mission, ere I checked a too fluent confidence.
Levert, who had been pacing up and down the deck in his absorbed and inattentive way, dropped his blade across my shoulder and challenged me to the foils.
"No, it is too early yet," Achille replied, "besides, we were talking of other things. As you were saying, comrade, you go—?"
"Oh, you two talk too much," Levert broke in again, "let us have a bout; I'm half a mind I can handle a foil myself. A still tongue, a clear head and a sharp blade are the tools of Fortune."
It seemed almost that he had twice interrupted purposely to keep me from talking. I thought I read that deeper meaning in his eyes. Somehow I grew to distrust him from that moment. What consequence was it to him of what I spoke?
It was not Levert's business to govern my tongue for roe, so I only said:
"Nay, we'll try our skill somewhat later; not now," and resumed my conversation with Achille.
While his manner showed a concern I deemed the matter little to warrant, yet it did make me consider, so I determined not to speak truly of myself.
"Well, now, comrade, of your own intrigues. You were saying—?"
"Nay, nothing of that kind. I journey to Paris simply for my own pleasure." Levert, who half listened at a distance knew I was going to heed his advice, though
