"And, if nothing happens?"
"In that case, something will happen inside myself: a spark that will set us going."
The only incident that broke the monotony of the morning was a rather disagreeable one. A gentleman was coming down the riding-path that separates the two roadways of the avenue, when his horse swerved, struck the bench on which they were sitting and backed against Shears's shoulder.
"Tut, tut!" snarled Shears. "A shade more and I should have had my shoulder smashed."
The rider was struggling with his horse. The Englishman drew his revolver and took aim. But Wilson seized his arm smartly:
"You're mad, Holmlock! Why ... look here ... you'll kill that gentleman!"
"Let go, Wilson ... do let go!"
A wrestle ensued, during which the horseman got his mount under control and galloped away.
"Now you can fire!" exclaimed Wilson, triumphantly, when the man was at some distance.
"But, you confounded fool, don't you understand that that was a confederate of Arsène Lupin's?"