Will you honour me, Monsieur l'Abbe?"
He stood close to Chauvelin in his own careless, DEBONNAIRE
way, holding out his snuff-box to his arch-enemy.
Chauvelin, who, as he told Marguerite once, had seen a trick
or two in his day, had never dreamed of this one. With one ear fixed
on those fast-approaching footsteps, one eye turned to that door where
Desgas and his men would presently appear, lulled into false security
by the impudent Englishman's airy manner, he never even remotely
guessed the trick which was being played upon him.
He took a pinch of snuff.
Only he, who has ever by accident sniffed vigorously a dose of
pepper, can have the faintest conception of the hopeless condition in
which such a sniff would reduce any human being.
Chauvelin felt as if his head would burst--sneeze after sneeze
seemed nearly to choke him; he was blind, deaf, and dumb for the
moment, and during that moment Blakeney quietly, without the slightest
haste, took up his hat, took some money out of his pocket, which he
left on the table, then calmly stalked out of the room!
CHAPTER XXVI THE JEW
It took Marguerite some time to collect her scattered senses;
the whole of this last short episode had taken place in less than a
minute, and Desgas and the soldiers were still about two hundred yards
away from the "Chat Gris.
Pages:
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328