The Café de la Paix
be in Lützelburg that I have been requested to absent myself from the duchy. Wherefore I turn to you."
But O'Rourke pursued his fancy. "I've heard she is beautiful?" he insinuated.
Again Chambret hesitated; but the eyes of the man glowed warm at the mental picture O'Rourke's suggestion conjured within his brain. "She is—indeed beautiful!" he declared at length; and simultaneously took from his pocket a leather wallet, which, opening, he put upon the table between them.
O'Rourke bent over it curiously. A woman's photograph stared up at him: the portrait of a most wonderful woman, looking out from the picture fearlessly, even regally, under level brows; a woman young, full-lipped, with heavy-lidded eyes that were dark and large, brimming with the wine of life. Which is Love.
O'Rourke had seen that portrait frequently before, as published in the prints, but now he began to appreciate this great beauty with a more intimate interest.
"Faith!" he sighed, looking up. "I'm more than a little minded to envy ye, Chambret. She is beautiful, me word!" He paused; then, "Ye would have me go to get back the boy, if I can?" he asked.
"That is what little I ask," assented Chambret. "You will be amply rewarded—"
"I'll go, mon ami. Rest easy, there; I'll do what ye would call me 'possible,' monsieur, and a little more, and the divvle of a lot more atop of that. If a man can scale the insurmountable—I'll be himself!"
He offered his hand, and, Chambret accepting, put his five fingers around the Frenchman's with a grip that made the other wince.
"As to the reward—" Chambret ventured again.
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