"Well," he said, "might I ask leave to send out for a bottle of wine?"
Aglionby jumped up with alacrity.
"You say so? 'Tis the mark of a true friend." He pulled hard at the bell-rope. "My man will be here instantly; and, Monsieur, let it be sack—sack, as you love me."
Simmons reappeared without delay, and was despatched for a bottle of sack. With the energy of pleasurable anticipation the captain pursued:
"Now, my dear Polignac, mark—before attempting the house 'tis well to poison the dog; aha! that is only my way of putting it, eh?"
"Of course. A figure of speech; but from the life!"
Aglionby flung him a suspicious glance; at times he had an uneasy feeling that Polignac was quizzing him. But after a momentary pause he went on as before.
"The dog in this case—and a low cur it is—is the young cockerel's servant—the same that embraced you so cordially at Madame de Vaudrey's. Ha! ha! I can relish the comical side of it e'en though he embraced me also!—and before the charming mademoiselle too!"
He guffawed uproariously. He felt that he was now getting tit for tat for Polignac's covert sneers, often rather suspected than understood. But he was not a little startled by the effect of his words and laughter. Polignac flushed purple with rage; his mouth took a very decided twist towards his left eye. Springing up suddenly he cried:
"Morbleu, Monsieur, a truce to your pleasantries! and keep the lady's name out of it, or by the——"