Terence O'Rourke, Gentleman Adventurer
it under one of the gloomy arches of the Rue de Rivoli. His man came up rapidly. O'Rourke dallied with the match, pretending an interest in the odd aspect of the almost desolate street, so generally populous.
"Monsieur—"
He jumped, by premeditation, and looked around. The man with the beard stood by his side, breathing heavily. O'Rourke eyed him gravely.
"The top of the morning to ye, sir," he said courteously; "and what can I have the pleasure of doing for ye, may I ask?"
The other recovered his breath in gasps, begging for time with an uplifted, expressive hand. He bowed ponderously; and O'Rourke made him a graceful leg, his eyes twinkling with amusement; after all the Irishman was no more than a boy at heart, fun-loving, and just then resolved to extract what entertainment he might from the Frenchman.
"Monsieur, I have a favor to ask—"
"A thousand, if ye will!"
The man was quick-witted; he saw that he was being trifled with, and expressed his resentment by the gathering of his heavy brows and a significant pause. At length, however, "Monsieur has been unfortunate," he suggested coldly.
"In what way?" demanded O'Rourke, on his dignity in an instant.
"At roulette," returned the other. "I presume that monsieur is not—" He hesitated.
"Not what, if ye please?"
"Rich, let us say; monsieur feels his losses of to-night—"
"He does? And may I ask how monsieur knows so much about me private affairs?"
"I was watching—"
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