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Etta Bamborough had never been disconcerted in her life yet; this incident came very near to bringing about the catastrophe. "At what time," she asked, "is he coming in?" "About half-past nine." Etta had a watch on a bracelet on her arm. Such women always know the time. It was a race, and Etta won it. She had only half an hour. De Chauxville was there, and Maggie with her quiet, honest eyes.
"Certainly," answered De Chauxville, with engaging frankness. "The man I know slightly is the sort of thing that Eton and Oxford turn out by the dozen. Well dressed, athletic, silent, a thorough gentleman et voil
There were many details upon which he required Paul's advice, and the two men talked together with less constraint than they had hitherto done. De Chauxville had picked up a vast deal of technical matter, and handled his little knowledge with a skill which bade fair to deprive it of its proverbial danger.
"Sydney Bamborough," repeated Vassili musingly, with a perfect expression of innocence on his well-cut face. "I have heard that name before." De Chauxville laughed quietly, as if in appreciation of a pretty trick which he knew as well as its performer. "She is a friend of mine."
"He has the same effect upon me as snails," she explained airily. Then, as if to salve her conscience, she gave the reason, but disguised, so that he did not recognize it. "I have seen more of M. de Chauxville than you have," she said gravely. "He is one of those men of whom women do see more. When men are present he loses confidence, like a cur when a thoroughbred terrier is about.
"A word I do not care about," said Etta, with raised eyebrows. The music was soft again. "It is ten years since I held a rifle," said De Chauxville. "Ah, madame, you do not know the excitement. I pity ladies, for they have no sport no big game." "Personally, monsieur," answered Etta, with a bright laugh, "I do not grudge you your big game. Suppose you miss the bear, or whatever it may be?"
"When you have the information you may name your own price," said the Russian coldly. There was a long silence. Before speaking De Chauxville turned and took a glass of liqueur from the table. His hand was not quite steady. He raised the glass quickly and emptied it. Then he rose and looked at his watch. The silence was a compact.
"Do you imagine yourself in love with the princess?" asked Steinmetz suddenly, with characteristic bluntness. "If you like," returned the other. "If I thought that it was that," said the German, looking at him thoughtfully, "I would throw you out of the window. If it is any thing else, I will only throw you down stairs." De Chauxville bit his thumb-nail anxiously.
She was the sort of mother who would have preferred to hear scandal about her daughter to hearing nothing. "If it will not freeze monsieur," replied Catrina, with uncompromising honesty. De Chauxville laughed in his frank way. "I am not afraid of coldness of the atmosphere, mademoiselle," he replied. "I am most anxious to see your beautiful country.
"By following me to the Café Tantale in ten minutes," answered De Chauxville, passing on to greet a lady who was bowing to him with the labored grace of a Parisienne. Vassili merely bowed and stood upright again.
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