"Good-evening, gentlemen."
He spoke in a soft, well-modulated voice, which held a hint of laughter. "Mr. Baggin, permit me to restore something of yours which I—er—found upon the hill." He held out the memorandum book, smiling.
Baggin sprang at him with an oath.
Baggin sprang at him with an oath
The count, still smiling, flung out his other hand, with a motion of defence, and the candlelight gleamed brightly upon a small dagger of Spanish workmanship. "'Ware!" he cried softly. "That point, I fancy, is sharp."
Baggin fell back a pace, his face twitching with rage.
"You would knife me, an unarmed man!" he cried furiously. "You low foreign cur!"
The count took a quick step toward him. His eyes sparkled. "I must ask you to retract that," he said. There was a dangerous note in his tones like the thin edge of a blade.