He Draws one Card
However, he was yet to become acquainted with Monsieur Adolph Chambret. That gentleman took his full time, carefully mapping out his plan of action behind that high, thinking forehead of his, as carefully subduing his anger—or, rather, keeping his finger upon the gage of it, that it might not get beyond his control.
"You are wondering what I propose to do with you, monsieur?" he queried at length, in a temperate, even tone.
"Faith, I was wondering what I'd have to do to ye, to make ye keep quiet," amended O'Rourke, abandoning all pretense.
The Frenchman moved impatiently. "You are presumptuous, monsieur," he said.
"I'm the very divvle of a fellow," admitted O'Rourke with engaging candor. "We'll take all the personalities for granted, if ye please, Monsieur Chambret. But as to business—"
"I am debating whether or not to hand you over to the gendarmes."
"Ye harbored that identical delusion a while ago, I believe. Don't bother with it; 'tis not so, really."
"And what is to prevent me, may I ask?"
"The answer, monsieur," returned O'Rourke, unruffled, "is—meself. Do ye connect with that?"
Chambret's eyes blazed; but still he held his temper in leash.
"May I inquire how you elbowed your way in here?"
"'Tis easy enough; I've no objection to telling ye. Ye called your policeman—I ran. Ye pursued—I saw the open door of madame's fiacre, thought it empty, jumped in, telling the driver I to go to the Gare du Nord. He went—bless him!—as though every gendarme in Paris was after him."
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