"Mais oui, mounseer—that is——"
"If I catch you mounseering me again, I'll make that French pate of thine and this English fist acquainted, so mind," said the insulted antiquary.
This terrible threat imposed temporary silence on our knight of the lather, who soaped and sudded away for a time without a word.
During this pause the spectators of the operation, who were seated or standing about the room, conversed together in groups in an undertone. Mr. Blackdeed and Mr. Crucible appeared to be particularly engrossed in conversation, but the tone they spoke in was inaudible to the ordinary listener. Not so, however, to Mr. Oldstone, whose ears were unusually sharp, and rendered more so on the present occasion from the position of forced quiet that he was obliged to maintain under the barber's hands. To judge by the tragedian's action, a looker-on might have supposed him quoting from one of his own melodramas, and imagined him to say, "Fly with me, dearest; leave for ever the roof of a tyrant father, and take shelter in the heart of one who is ready to lay down his life for thy sake." While Mr. Crucible might have been supposed to be rehearsing the lady's part, and to say, "Oh! tempt me not, Alonso; you know him not. I dare not fly with thee."
The ears of Mr. Oldstone, however, interpreted the gesticulations in a very different manner. Nothing could be more plain to the ears of this worthy than these words from the tragedian. "The political state of France will be a great interruption to all kinds of business." He could hardly believe his ears, or that anyone could dare to use such treasonable words within the sacred precincts of the club, so he listened again, and this time caught a few disconnected words in Mr. Crucible's tone of voice, such as 'stocks,' 'bonds,' 'premiums,' 'interest,' and the like.
Suddenly the whilom president of the grand saturnalia of the Wonder Club was observed to start violently.
"Why, you rascal, you've cut me!" he cried to the barber.
"Pardong Mounseer, mais ce n'etait pas ma faute," said the confused barber.
"What! French again, you monkey, to my face! Would you add insult to injury?" said the incensed antiquary.
But calming down at length, said, "Well, well, lad, I acquit you this time, for I verily believe that those two gentlemen in the corner there (pointing to Messrs. Blackdeed and Crucible) are more to blame than yourself for startling me out of my self-possession by the tenor of their conversation.