“Excuse me,” said Ali, sharply; “I see that you are going to take an hour in framing a demand which could be expressed in a few seconds. I am quite willing to give up my time to those who pay me, but you are either too poor or too stingy to justify my so doing. You want a Saracen’s head, and you are afraid to ask for it.”
“Good heaven! who could have told you that?”
“You yourself.”
“I? When?”
“You talk in your sleep, sir, and are more communicative then than when you are awake. I sleep in the stable close by, and have overheard you. Now that you see I am so well informed as to your wants, let’s settle the matter at once.”
Maragougnia became infinitely whiter than his shirt.
“I can procure you what you want. But you must understand perfectly that it is not a stock article, so I must have a good price. Fifty pieces of gold down, and fifty more to-morrow on delivery.”
Maragougnia fell fainting on the floor. Ali feared for a moment that he had gone too far. The knight’s heart no longer beat, his body was icy cold, his breathing had stopped.
“Come, come!” said Ali, “recover yourself. You shall have it for ninety-five pieces, or say ninety, in consideration of my having waited on you for a month.”
The Count de Riom did not stir.