“Rave or not,” replied Chassaigne, calmly, “I want you to try the experiment. It is a whim of mine.” He handled the revolver suggestively.
“And if I refuse?”
“I shall shoot you!”
The German laughed outright.
“Ottilie!” he cried, in German, “these Frenchmen have gone mad. They pretend that you are not Ottilie Rosenhagen but a French girl—and they want to take you from me!”
The girl sprang from her seat with a cry of horror, rushed to him, and flung her arms about him.
“Oh, no, no!” she cried. “I am German—I am German—I was never anything but German! Oh, don’t take me away from him! I love him! I love him! He is all I have in the world!”
Vincent watched the action with jealous rage.
“My God!” he muttered. “I shall kill him in another moment if this goes on!”