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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Monsieur Saupiquet," said I, "doubtless offered her every consolation." "He used to travel with her and look after Sultan's well-being. He was her " "Her Master of the Horse," I suggested. "Precisely. You have the power of using the right word, Monsieur de Gex. It is a great gift. My good friend Saupiquet is attached to a circus at present stationed in Toulon.
He has reams of paper which he calls the dossier of the crime. You never saw such a collection of rubbish in your life. I cried over it. And he is so proud of it, poor wee mite." She laughed suddenly. "I should love to have seen you hobnobbing with him and Saupiquet." "Why?" "You're so aristocratic-looking," she did me the embarrassing honour to explain in her direct fashion.
He drew out his gilt-embossed pocket-book, and from it extracted an envelope. "This," said he, handing it to me, "is the receipt. I have to thank you again for regulating the debt, as it has enabled me to transact with Monsieur Saupiquet the business on which I summoned him from Toulon.
Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos broke upon this pleasing fancy by remarking again that Monsieur Saupiquet was a friend of Madame Brandt. "He was with her at the time of her great bereavement." "Bereavement?" I asked forgetfully. "Her horse Sultan." He whispered the words with solemn reverence. I must confess to being tired of the horse Sultan and disinclined to treat his loss seriously.
I feel inclined to go up to the retired Colonels and elderly maiden ladies, who seem to form the majority of my fellow-guests, and pinch them and ask them whether they are real, or, like Papadopoulos and Saupiquet, the gentler creatures of a nightmare. Well, I have written to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs at Tlemcen, which is away down by the Morocco frontier.
"Permit me to present my friend Monsieur Achille Saupiquet Monsieur de Gex, a great English statesman and a friend of that gnadigsten Engel, Madame Lola Brandt." Monsieur Saupiquet and I saluted each other formally. I took a seat. Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos moved a bundle of papers tied up with pink ribbon from in front of me, and ordered coffee and cognac.
I have wanted to pay my respects to you since I arrived in Algiers, but till now I have had no opportunity." "Allow me," said I, "to disembarrass you of your hat." I took the high-crowned, flat-brimmed thing which he was nursing somewhat nervously on his knees, and put it on the table. He murmured that I was "Sehr aimable." "And the charming Monsieur Saupiquet, how is he?" I asked.
Do you remember the five francs you gave to Saupiquet to let you into Sultan's stable? Ah! Ha! Ha! You wince. You grow pale. Do you remember the ball of poison you put down Sultan's throat?" Lola started forward with flaming eyes and anguished face. "You you?" she gasped. "You were so ignoble as to do that?" "The accursed brute!" shouted Vauvenarde. "Yes, I did it.
You will you will" he shook his fist passionately as he sought for a climactic menace "you will make me spit in your eye." He dashed his fist down on the marble table so that the glasses jingled. Saupiquet finished his cognac undisturbed. "I say that Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous, and until that is paid, I do no business."
The mingled emotions of sorrow at the demise of Sultan, the royal generosity of Madame Brandt, and the turpitude of his friend Saupiquet, brought tears to the little man's eyes. Monsieur Saupiquet shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly. "A poor man has to get drunk when he can. It is only the rich who can get drunk when they like." I looked at my watch and rose in a hurry.
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