"Monsieur Cherami, this is a matter of the utmost gravity; I apply to you, because I think I have judged you accurately. You are a man capable of understanding me."
"The deuce! the deuce! but you have a serious way of talking! It is plain that this is no joking matter."
"Are you still disposed to do me a favor?"
"More so than ever."
"Very well; then be good enough to come with me. There must be a café somewhere about here; a restaurant where I can write a letter?"
"Yes, we have only to turn back a little way, and we shall find what we want."
"Let us go. Have you breakfasted?"
"Why, yes; as I told you just now, I breakfasted at Passy. But that won't interfere with my taking something more. The air is sharp, and walking assists in rapid digestion."
They turned back; Auguste walked so fast that Cherami, despite his long legs, had difficulty in following him; he tried to continue the conversation, but his companion seemed absorbed by his thoughts, and did not answer.
"There's something wrong with that man," said Arthur to himself, as he lighted another cigar. "I don't know what it is, but that long face of his doesn't indicate a man who is trying to make up his mind what sauce to order for his lobster. However, it's his business. He has confidence in me, and I'll not betray him, for he's a good fellow. I am only sorry that I stuffed myself with eggs and pie at Aunt Duponceau's, for I should have breakfasted much better with him, that's sure. But every man isn't a sorcerer."