"But, monsieur, how long is it since you were there last?"
"I think it must be two months. I had little heart for it after my father—So, you see, no one will be on the lookout for me to-night."
"Neither will mademoiselle," I made my point.
"I hope she may," he answered. "She will know I must see her to-night. And I think she will be at the window."
The reasoning seemed satisfactory to him. And I thought one wet blanket in the house was enough.
"Very well, monsieur. I am ready for anything you propose."
"Then I propose supper."
Afterward we played shovel-board, I risking the pistoles mademoiselle had given me. I won five more, for he paid little heed to what he was about, but was ever fidgeting over to the window to see if it was dark enough to start. At length, when it was still between dog and wolf, he announced that he would delay no longer.
"Very well, monsieur," I said with all alacrity.
"But you are not to come!"