‘We shall see,’ said I.
‘You don’t know the risk you’re running.’
‘Come, come, isn’t this rather near boasting?’ I asked contemptuously. ‘Your Excellency is a great man, no doubt, but you can’t afford to carry out these dark designs against a man of my position.’ Then I changed to a more friendly tone, saying, ‘My dear Pasha, had you defeated me I should have taken it quietly. Won’t you best consult your dignity by doing the same?’
A long silence followed. I watched his face. Very gradually his brow cleared, his lips relaxed into a smile. He, in his turn, shrugged his shoulders. He took a step towards me; he held out his hand.
‘Wheatley,’ said he, ‘it is true, I am a fool. A man is a fool in such matters. You must make allowances for me. I was honestly in love with her. I thought myself safe from you. I allowed my temper to get the better of me. Will you shake hands?’
‘Ah, now you’re like yourself, my dear friend,’ said I, grasping his hand.
‘We’ll speak again about it to-morrow. But my anger is over. Fear nothing. I will be reasonable.’
I murmured grateful thanks and appreciation of his generosity.
‘Good-night, good-night,’ said he. ‘I wish I hadn’t found you to-night. I should not have lost my composure like this at any other time. You’re sure you forgive my hasty words?’