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Constance felt unconsciously the shift which he had skilfully made in their positions. Instead of being the pursuer, she was now the pursued, at least in their conversation. He had admitted nothing of what her quick intuition told her. Yet she felt an admiration for the sang-froid of Macey. She felt a spell thrown over her by the magnetic eyes that seemed to search her own.
Ingelow, the first to break the silence, with a soft laugh. "Upon my word," said Dr. Oleander, with his death's-head smile, "Miss Mollie's return is far more remarkable than her departure! That young lady's sang-froid requires to be seen to be believed in." "Where can she have been?" asked Lawyer Sardonyx, helplessly taking snuff.
Assisted by a sort of croupier, she did the honours of the bouillotte with that admirable sang-froid which you and I have often witnessed in some of our hostesses of fashion; and, had she not communicated to me the secret, I should have been the last to suspect, while she appeared so indifferent, that she, like those ladies, had so great an interest in the card-party being continued till morning.
"I seized the duke's arm, and stopped him before he had succeeded in what he meant to do," continued de Sigognac, after a grateful glance at the soubrette; "he was furiously angry, and assailed me with threats and invectives, to which I replied with a mocking sang-froid, from behind my stage mask.
Dinner was an odd affair tho' it went off not so badly. Madame X., in her proud Russian beauty and her admirable control of the conditions, was superb. I never admired anybody so much, for it is not easy to entertain at one's board an enemy who has just usurped home and country, but her extraordinary charm and dignity gave the situation its note and the "guests" were everything that was agreeable. We talked of generalities, as well as "War," in four languages (Russian, French, English and German) with much the same sang-froid as the juggler who tosses knives and, when the meal was done, thanked Heaven that nobody had launched a tactless bomb which might have plunged us into a boiling sea. There was nothing particularly boastful in their conversation, though at times a certain assured reference to "Paris in a fortnight" crept in, which we found difficult to digest in fact I was furious. Paris, indeed! Beautiful Paris! My neighbor at table on the right was a man of perhaps fifty-eight years, rather gray and grandfatherly, with such nice, blue eyes. Prefacing all his remarks with a nervous little cough to fix my attention, he would launch with difficulty one or two phrases in restricted French followed by a few straggling words in English and finally finished up with a burst of voluble German. It was a work of art to understand him, but I arrived panting at least I had that sensation, and it is not the first time I have given thanks for a woman's natural intuition. Then I decided to lead out next anyway I wanted to get him started on "War" without precipitating an international difficulty and I asked him as stupidly as possible (perhaps I did not need to simulate that) if he liked "War." He hesitated just a second and I was prepared for the usual self-respecting denial when he horrified me by answering a simple "Yes." Voil
"Certainly," answered Dick, with as much sang-froid as though an earthquake were a mere pleasant interlude in an otherwise monotonous life; "it occurred about three months ago, and gave the place a pretty severe shaking up, I can assure you. It also started that volcano into activity again after ages of quiescence." "The mischief!" ejaculated Turnbull, with manifest discomposure.
The two, scenario writer and producer, had counterfeited the melodrama of life so often in their productions that even the second sinister chapter in this film mystery failed to penetrate their sang-froid. Inwardly they may have felt as deeply as any of the rest, but both maintained their outward composure. On Manton's shoulders was the responsibility for the picture.
But the Marquis de Courtornieu's coolness restored the duke's sang-froid. He ran to the barracks, and in less than half an hour five hundred foot-soldiers and three hundred of the Montaignac chasseurs were under arms. With these forces at his disposal it would have been easy enough to suppress this movement without the least bloodshed. It was only necessary to close the gates of the city.
They rapidly scoured the premises, covering every inch, paying no heed to the girl, who watched them with indifferent eyes, nor to the old man, who glared at their every movement. Glenister was carelessly sarcastic, although he kept his right arm free, while beneath his sang-froid was a thoroughly trained alertness.
It was a sublime spectacle to see the sang-froid of the young man, whose entire bust was raised above the water, while he sustained Diana with one arm, and with the other guided the last efforts of his expiring horse.
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