“Where are your rooms?”
“You have something important to tell me?”
“Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along.”
They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence to the terrace of the Continental, which they mounted. Not a word was said, but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined his cigar. He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, the window of which opened on a private balcony. Here he placed two chairs and a small table; and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seated themselves.
“What's it all about?”
“O, only a crown and a few millions in money.”
“Only a crown and a few millions in money,” repeated Maurice very slowly, for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and these two greatest treasures on earth.
A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took aside a porter and quietly plied him with questions. Evidently the answers were satisfactory, for he at once departed.
Maurice stared at the Englishman.
“Knocks you up a bit, eh?” said Fitzgerald. “Well, I am rather surprised myself; that is to say, I was.”