“No, no Monsieur; not that. You must not seek a quarrel, for I am not afraid––truly I am not; you will listen––”
There was a voice speaking in the office room behind, the closing of a door, and the scraping of a chair as someone sat down. My words ceased, and we stood silent in the shadow, my grasp still on De Artigny’s arm.
CHAPTER V
THE ORDER OF LA BARRE
I did not recognize the voice speaking––a husky voice, the words indistinct, yet withal forceful––nor do I know what it was he said. But when the other answered, tapping on the desk with some instrument, I knew the second speaker to be La Barre, and leaned back just far enough to gain glimpse through the opening in the drapery. He sat at the desk, his back toward us, while his companion, a red-faced, heavily-moustached man, in uniform of the Rifles, stood opposite, one arm on the mantel over the fireplace. His expression was that of amused interest.
“You saw the lady?” he asked.
“In the receiving line for a moment only; a fair enough maid to be loved for her own sake I should say. Faith, never have I seen handsomer eyes.”
The other laughed.