"It is my affair. Enough that you will feel the weight of their hands if you interfere with me in carrying out their instructions."
"Well, anyhow, tell me who you are. I've a right to know that in exchange. You chose to help yourself to my name; now I insist upon knowing yours."
I told him, not very readily, as may be supposed.
"Domenico Falfani? Is that your own or a 'purser's' name? Come, you know what I mean. It's part of your stock in trade to understand all languages, including slang. Is that the name he has given you?"—this to the conductor. "Show me your way-bill, your feuille de route."
Jules at a nod from me produced it, and no doubt understood my reason when in my turn I claimed to see it.
"I have a clear right," I insisted, overruling all objections raised by the Colonel; and taking it into my hands I read the names aloud, "Colonel Annesley, Mrs. Blair, maid and child." I pronounced the name with great contempt.
"You talk of purser's names," I said sneeringly. "What do you think of this? Blair, indeed! No more the woman's name than Smith or Jones, or what you please."
"Speak more respectfully of a lady," cried the Colonel, catching me tightly by the arm.
"Lady? Oho! Don't, Colonel, drop it. At any rate, she is not Mrs. Blair; you may take that from me," I said as impressively as a judge on the bench. "And what's more, Colonel, I wouldn't press charges you can't substantiate against me, or I may hit back with another not so easy to meet. Try to stop me at the next station, and I'll stop your pal—ah, don't"—he had a cruelly strong hand—"your Mrs. Blair, and she'll find herself in a particularly tight place."