After some minutes had passed thus, the Swede decided to speak first. He walked up to Albert, and said to him, still in a most ceremonious tone:
"It seems to me, monsieur, that you meant to be understood as making fun of the opera glass which I presented to Madame Baldimer."
"Faith! yes," the young man airily replied; "after all, monsieur, that's as good a motive as any! and I fancy that we both understand what we have in view."
"Perfectly, monsieur. At what hour to-morrow, if you please?"
"Oh! not too early, if it's all the same to you; for I am a little lazy about getting up in the morning."
"Very good—say ten o'clock?"
"Ten o'clock it is, at Porte Saint-Mandé; there are a number of very pleasant, solitary little nooks in that neighborhood, and it's less common than the Bois de Boulogne. Is that satisfactory to you?"
"Entirely so; and your weapons?"
"Whatever you choose."
"Pistols, then."