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Updated: June 9, 2025
No more than fair." "Fair? Most certainly," croaked that battered convivialist. "Chantel can't object." He rose, and waddled down the path. Rudolph saw Chantel turn, frowning, then nod and smile. The nod was courteous, the smile full of satire. The fat ambassador returned. "Right-oh," he puffed, tugging from the baize cover a shining pair of bell-hilted swords. "Here, try 'em out."
The outbreak of voices was cut short; the whole company stood, like Homeric armies, watching two champions. Chantel, however, broke the silence. "Nobody must go." He eyed them all, gravely. "I left him, yes. He does not need any one. Personne. Very sudden. He went to the school sick this morning. Swollen axillae the poor fool, not to know! et puis enfin He is dead."
Chantel, for the moment, was fencing; and though his attacks came ceaseless and quick as flame, he was plainly prolonging them, discarding them, repeating, varying, whether for black-hearted merriment, or the vanity of perfect form, or love of his art.
"Can't leave now," snapped Gilly. "I'll be along, tell her " "Had she better go alone?" suggested Heywood. "No; right you are." The other swept a fretful eye about the company. "But this business begins to look urgent. Here, somebody we can spare. You go, Hackh, there's a good chap." Chantel dropped the helmet he had caught up. Bowing stiffly, Rudolph marched across the room and down the stairs.
"Right!" cried two or three voices from the foot of the table. "It should be Farthest off " All talked at once, except Chantel, who eyed them leniently, and smiled as at so many absurd children. Kempner a pale, dogged man, with a pompous white moustache which pouted and bristled while he spoke rose and delivered a pointless oration. "Ignoring race and creed," he droned, "we must stand together "
Do you know," his voice rose and quickened, "do you know, the other end of town is in an uproar? We murder children, it appears, for medicine!" Rudolph started, turned, but now sat quiet under Heywood's grasp. Chantel, in the lamplight, watched the punkahs with a hateful smile. "The Gascons are not all dead," he murmured. "They plunge us all into a turmoil, for the sake of a woman."
"Hates this station, I fancy, much as we hate it." "Anything to concern us?" asked Gilly. "Intimated he could beat me at chess," laughed the young man, "and will bet me a jar of peach wine to a box of Manila cigars!" Chantel, from a derisive dumb-show near the window, had turned to waddle solemnly down the room. At sight of Heywood's face he stopped guiltily. "Chantel!"
His hearers applauded this gloomy sentiment, till his cheeks flushed again with honest satisfaction. But in the full sweep of a brilliant interlude, Chantel suddenly broke down. "I cannot," he declared sharply. As he turned on the squealing stool, they saw his face white and strangely wrought. "I had meant," he said, with painful precision, "to say nothing to-night, and act as I cannot.
Earle, her chin cramped on her high bosom, while she mournfully studied his colored picture-book of the Rhine. Miss Drake, who leaned in one of the river windows, answered him, saying rather coldly that Chantel and Mrs. Forrester had gone down to the garden. In the court, however, he ran across Ah Pat, loitering beside a lantern.
Run as he might, Rudolph did not overtake her till she had caught Chantel at the gate. All three, silent, sped across fields toward the river, through the startling shadows and dim orange glow from distant flames. The rough ground sloped, at last, and sent them stumbling down into mud.
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