“Curse it, Maurice!” Fitzgerald began pacing the room.
“No, no,” said Maurice; “let us eat it; that's what it's here for,” and he fell to with that vigor known only to healthy blood.
“But what's to be done?”
“Follow Solomon's advice, and wait.”
“You're taking it cursed cool.”
“Force of habit,” breaking the toast. “What's the use of wasting powder? Because I have shown only the exterior, our friend the Colonel has already formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need be, but young and careless. In a day or so—for I suppose we are not to be liberated at once—he'll forget to use proper caution in respect to me. And then, 'who can say?' as the Portuguese says when he hasn't anything else to say. They'll keep a strict watch over you, my friend, because you've played the lion too much. Just before I left the States, as you call them, a new slang phrase was going the rounds;—'it is better to play the fox some of the time than to roar all of the time.' Ergo, be foxy. Take it cool. So long as you haven't got that mint packed about your person, the game breaks even.”
“But the king!”
“Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not present those consols, either for renewal or collection, on the twentieth, he loses nothing. As you said, let us hope that the chambermaid is a shifty, careless lass, who will not touch your room till you return.” Maurice broke an egg and dropped a lump of sugar into his cup.
“Is this the way you fight Indians?”
“Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? As to Indians, shoot them in the back if you can. Here, everything depends not on fighting but the right use of words. A man may be a diplomat and not render his country any large benefit; still, it's a fine individual training. Thrones stand on precipices and are pushed back to safety by the trick of a few words. Have an egg; they're fresh.”