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"Come naturally quite so!" and Chauvenet twisted his mustache with an air of immense satisfaction. "But the genial art of assassination there's a business that requires a calculating hand, my dear Monsieur Chauvenet!" Chauvenet's hand went again to his lip. "To be sure!" he ejaculated with zest. "But alone alone one can do little.
Zmai had started to run as Oscar gained the wall and Chauvenet's curses did not halt the Servian when he found Oscar at his heels. Chauvenet stood impassively by the wall, his revolver raised and covering Armitage, who walked slowly and doggedly toward him.
The horses of Chauvenet's party danced about restlessly, responsive to the nervousness of the strange beast before them. "Who goes there?" The stranger's horse was quiet for an instant and the rider had forced him so near that the beast's up-reined head and the erect shoulders of the horseman were quite clearly defined.
"Assure the man that I never heard of him before in my life that the idea of seeking him never occurred to me." The rifle a repeater of the newest type went to the man's shoulder in a flash and the blue barrel pointed at Chauvenet's head. "None o' that! I reckon the American language air good enough for these 'ere negotiations."
"You are not dull, Chauvenet; you are only shortsighted. The same witnesses know that John Armitage was at the Hotel Monte Rosa for twenty-four hours following the Count's departure. Meanwhile, where were you, Jules Chauvenet?" Chauvenet's hand again went to his face, which whitened, though he sought refuge again in flippant irony. "To be sure! Where was I, Monsieur?
I have an engagement to breakfast with Baron von Marhof at his house at eight o'clock in the morning, and if I am not there every agency of the government will be put to work to find you, Mr. Jules Chauvenet, and these other scoundrels who travel with you." "You are violent, my dear sir " began Durand, whose wits were coming back to him much quicker than Chauvenet's.
The Servian, on his knees before Durand, suffered the torrent of abuse meekly. He was a scoundrel, hired to do murder; and his vilification by an angered employer did not greatly trouble him, particularly since he understood little of Chauvenet's rapid German.
Chauvenet's eyes blinked for a moment as he considered the difficulties of his situation. The presence of Baron von Marhof sobered him. America might not, after all, be so safe a place from which to conduct an Old World conspiracy, and this incident must, if possible, be turned to his own account.
It is unpardonable! I can only offer you reparation anything you ask," stammered Chauvenet. "You are looking for John Armitage, are you?" demanded Claiborne hotly, without heeding Chauvenet's words. "Mr. Armitage is not here; he was in Storm Springs to-night, at my house. He is a brave gentleman, and I warn you that you will injure him at your peril.
He said " and Chauvenet's mirth stifled him for a moment. "Yes; what was it?" demanded the German impatiently. "He said: 'Thank you, waiter! and put the cigarette case back into his pocket!" They all laughed.
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