"Yes, monsieur, with two large windows."
"I want some of your best wine, remember."
"Give yourself no uneasiness; you will be perfectly satisfied, I think," replied the innkeeper.
About a quarter of an hour afterward a second guest entered the inn. This man also wore a heavy pea-jacket, and his swarthy skin, jet-black hair, and hard, almost repulsive features gave him a decidedly sinister appearance. After casting a quick glance around, the newcomer said, in bad French, and with an Italian accent, for he was a native of the island of Malta:
"Is there a man named Dupont here?"
"Yes, monsieur, and I will take you to his room at once if you will follow me."
Subsequently, when the host had placed breakfast on the table, he received orders to retire and not return until he was summoned.
As soon as the two strangers found themselves alone together, the Maltese, striking the table a terrible blow with his clenched fist, exclaimed in English:
"That dog of a smuggler has backed out; all is lost!"
"What are you saying?"