A gang of workmen armed with picks set about demolishing the wall. Ralph watched them do it thoughtfully, his hands in his pockets and a cigarette between his lips, without bothering himself about the fact that his presence on that spot might appear a trifle strange.
Godfrey d’Etigues, rolled a cigarette; and then having no matches, he walked up to Ralph and asked him for a light.
Ralph held out his cigarette and while the Baron was lighting his, a complete plan formed itself in his mind, a spontaneous, very simple plan, of which the least details rose before him in their logical sequence.
He pulled off his cap and displayed his carefully brushed curls which were not at all those of an ordinary fisherman. The Baron d’Etigues gazed at him earnestly, and, suddenly enlightened, fell into a fury.
“You again! And disguised! What is this new intrigue and how dare you follow me here? I’ve already told you in the clearest possible terms that a marriage between my daughter and you is impossible.”
Ralph caught his arm and said imperiously:
“We don’t want a scandal! That would do neither of us any good. Bring your friends to me.”
Godfrey tried to shake him off.
“Bring your friends!” Ralph repeated in a yet more imperious voice. “I am going to render you a service. What are you looking for? Something antique, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said the Baron impressed against his will by Ralph’s earnestness. “We’re looking for a candlestick.”