"That was precisely," he said, "what I thought when this"—he indicated his maimed hand—"happened to me. And I did my best to procure one."
"Did you succeed?" Payton retorted in an insolent tone.
"To some extent," the Colonel replied, in the most matter-of-fact manner. And he transferred the foil to his left hand.
"Give you four to one," Payton rejoined, "Lemoine hits you twice before you hit him once."
Colonel John had anticipated some of the things that had happened. But he had not foreseen this. He was quick to see the use to which he might put it, and it was only for an instant that he hesitated. Then "Four to one?" he repeated.
"Five, if you like!" Payton sneered.
"If you will wager," the Colonel said slowly, "if you will wager the grey mare you were riding this morning, sir——"
Payton uttered an angry oath. "What do you mean?" he said.
"Against ten guineas," Colonel John continued carelessly, bending the foil against the floor and letting it spring to its length again, "I will make that wager."
Payton scowled at him. He was aware of the other's interest in the mare, and suspected, at least, that he had come to town to recover her. And caution would have had him refuse the snare. But his toadies were about him, he had long ruled the roast, to retreat went against the grain; while to suppose that the man had the least chance against Lemoine was absurd. Yet he hesitated. "What do you know about the mare?" he said coarsely.