The other drew his knife. He caught him by the arm:
"No nonsense! I have an idea. But, for God's sake, Marco, understand me and speak in your turn. Speak as if you were Kesselbach. . . . You hear, Marco! You are Kesselbach."
He expressed himself so coolly, so forcibly and with such authority that Marco understood, without further explanation, that he himself was to play the part of Kesselbach. Marco said, so as to be heard:
"You must apologize for me, my dear fellow. Tell M. Gourel I'm awfully sorry, but I'm over head and ears in work. . . . I will see him to-morrow morning, at nine . . . yes, at nine o'clock punctually."
"Good!" whispered the other. "Don't stir."
He went back to the lobby, found Gourel waiting, and said:
"Mr. Kesselbach begs you to excuse him. He is finishing an important piece of work. Could you possibly come back at nine o'clock to-morrow morning?"
There was a pause. Gourel seemed surprised, more or less bothered and undecided. The other man's hand clutched the handle of a knife at the bottom of his pocket. At the first suspicious movement, he was prepared to strike.
At last, Gourel said:
"Very well. . . . At nine o'clock to-morrow. . . . But, all the same . . . However, I shall be here at nine to-morrow. . . ."