“Hanged if I care if it’s another deluge!” said Mauville. “I mean news of the town, not news of the river.”
“There’s a new beauty come to town––a brunette; all the bloods are talking about her. Where did she 279 come from? Who is she? These are some of the questions asked. But she’s a Peri, at any rate! shy, hard to get acquainted with––at first! An actress––Miss Carew!”
The glass trembled in the patroon’s hand. “Do you know her?” he asked unsteadily.
Smiling, the visitor returned the cane to his lips and gazed into vacancy, as though communing with agreeable thoughts.
“I have met her,” he said finally. “Yes; I may say I have met her. Ged! Next to a duel with rapiers is one with eyes. They thrust at you; you parry; they return, and, demme! you’re stabbed! But don’t ask me any more––discretion––you understand––between men of the world––demme!”––and the count relapsed into a vacuous dream.
“What a precious liar he is!” commented the land baron to himself. But his mind soon reverted to the duel once more. “If I had only followed Spedella’s advice and studied his favorite parades!” he muttered, regretfully.
“It would have been the same,” retorted the count, brutally. “When you lost your temper, you lost your cause. Your work was brilliant; but he is one of the best swordsmen I ever saw. Who is he, anyway?”
“All I know is, he served in Algiers,” said Mauville, moodily.
“A demmed adventurer, probably!” exclaimed the other.