‘That you will learn when the proper time arrives,’ he answered dryly.
‘And Karavich—will he accompany us?’ I asked.
‘Ah, bah! why trouble yourself about Karavich?’ he demanded, with a contraction of his brows. ‘He is nothing to you, nor you to him.’ Then a moment later he added, almost as if speaking to himself: ‘But yes; ce cher Karavich will accompany us certainly. We cannot afford to leave him behind.’
At this juncture, a servant appeared with a tray containing a cold chicken together with other comestibles. This was supplemented by a second tray on which were coffee, wines, and liqueurs. ‘Come,’ said Legros with a smile, as he sat down on a chair which the man had placed for him, ‘let us make ourselves what you English call jolly.’
‘Jolly!’ I ejaculated with a miserable attempt at a laugh. ‘I’m likely to feel jolly under such circumstances as these!’
‘Why not?’ he demanded blandly. ‘Ah, mon enfant, when you have lived as long as I have, you will have learnt that the truest philosophy is to enjoy the present while you can, and leave the future to take care of itself. Sit, and let me assist you to a wing of this fowl; or what say you to this mayonnaise? It looks as if it might tempt an anchorite.’
‘I am not hungry; I cannot eat.’
‘Foolish boy! Remember you have a long cold journey before you. Try, at least, a couple of these caviare sandwiches.’
I shook my head. ‘I will take a cup of coffee, nothing more.’
M. Legros pulled the ends of his moustache, but made no further attempt to persuade me; so, while I sat and sipped my coffee, he went on with his supper—if supper it could be called. He was a quick eater, and in a few minutes he rose and pushed back his chair.