He has Won the Race
I understand that you accompanied Monsieur le Prince"—Mouchon started—"to the Eirene, last night?"
"That is so, madame."
"Who accompanied you?"
"Monsieur Chambret and the Irish adventurer—"
"You mean Monsieur O'Rourke? Then name him so. He is more of a man than either of you, messieurs, who sneer at him—'adventurer'! What happened? Tell me!" she insisted imperiously.
"Nothing, madame. Monsieur le Prince decided to go to Las Palmas—"
"And went—where? Come, the truth!"
Mouchon read determination in her attitude; he dared not resist her. He could not evade the answer, and yet …
"Monsieur O'Rourke told me not to tell on peril of my life," he murmured abjectly.
"Nevertheless, you had best tell me all. What happened?"
She stamped her foot. Le petit Lemercier, suddenly comprehending the drift of her inquiries, nodded approvingly.
"Speak up, Mouchon!" he encouraged his courtier.
Mouchon might not delay; he was a man of no stability, as has been indicated; he capitulated gracefully. In a few vivid words he outlined the tragedy that had made madame a widow—strong words they were, picturing the duel sharply, for the soul of the little Frenchman, or what served him for a soul, had been deeply moved by the horror of the thing.
He paused at the end. Lemercier, on his feet, staring blankly, dazed by the unexpectedness of the news, stupefied by the loss of the man who had been his constant mentor—Lemercier seemed to see the body on the sands, with Mou-
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