"How much?" Curtis tried to make her say.
She gesticulated furiously, and declined payment. It was an insult to the Emperor. Did Monsieur imagine that money would wipe out that? Did Monsieur suppose that she cared only for her own loss?—bah!—nothing of the kind, though Madame was a widow, and could ill afford to lose anything. But this was a profound matter. Madame had a duty to perform, and incontestably she would perform it.
With which declaration the irate landlady disappeared.
"That's awkward," Curtis said seriously. "She is the first of the sort that I have come across yet. We had a nice little landlady at Valenciennes. Roy, you had better be off sharp. She may not know your name."
"And leave you to bear the blame for what I've done! I'm not so mean!"
"It's not meanness. She may cool down when she does not see you, and I must make another attempt. Of course I know that your father will pay anything in reason to get you out of the difficulty. Be off, Roy."
"But she knows my name well enough. She has seen me before, I'm sure."
"All the more reason why you shouldn't stay here. Get home as fast as you can, and tell your father at once. Don't put off. I hope it will come to nothing; but Wirion is certain not to lose his chance of putting on the screw, and squeezing money out of your people. Run off, as fast as you can. I'll tackle her again."
Roy obeyed, by this time rather serious. "I wonder what does come over a fellow sometimes to make him make a fool of himself," he cogitated.