“This person,” said the baron, “passed himself off as Colonel Despard, and, by that pretext, obtained from me the honor of a duel with me. It appears that he is a mere impostor.”
The other man on the settee called out cheerfully, “Bob, send for the police!”
Dumergue looked rather sheepish; his invention failed him.
“Do either or both of these gentlemen,” said I, indicating the baron and the colonel’s brother-in-law, “call me an impostor?”
“I do,” said the baron, with a sneering laugh.
“I am compelled to assert it,” said the other, with a bow.
I had edged near the little table, on which the baron’s coffee had been served. I now took up the coffee-pot and milk-jug. The coffee I threw in the baron’s face, and the milk in that of his ally. Both men sprang forward with an oath. At the same moment, the electric light went out, and I was violently pulled back toward the door, and someone whispered, “Vanish as quick as you can. Go home—go anywhere.”
“All right, sir,” said I, for I recognized the prince’s voice. “But what are they doing?”