“They seemed annoyed.”
“Probably,” said I. Although the whole affair appeared to me comical, it had, too, its possible tragedy.
“Well,” I continued, “I shall find the count, and set right the matter of the cards. After that we may better see our way. These matters are never hurried over here. Dine with me to-night at my rooms at seven-thirty; and meanwhile, as for the baron—”
“Oh, the baron—you should see him. I came near to calling him Porthos to his face. I wish I had.”
“And the small man, the colonel—”
“Oh, yes—shade of Dumas! He may pass for Aramis.”
I laughed. “By the way,” I added, “he is one of the best blades in France.”
“Is he? However he comes in third. But can he shoot? If I accept the sword,—and it may come to that,—I am pretty sure to be left with something to remember. If we use rifles, I assure you they will remember me still longer or not at all.” There was savage menace in his blue eyes as he spoke. “But is it not ridiculous?”
I said it was.
“And now about this count who is interested in the anonymous lady. I suppose he may pass for Athos. That makes it complete. Have some rye. Smuggled it. Said it was medicine. The customs fellow tried it neat, and said I had poisoned him.”