"Let us hope," remarked the coachman, as he hastily swallowed his breakfast, "that the Marquis does not intend to invest his wife's dowry in this new venture of his."The men then ceased to speak of their master, and began to busy themselves with their own affairs, and went out again without alluding to him any further, leaving Andre to reflect what a difficult business the detective line was.
The customers looked upon him with distrustful eyes, for it must be confessed that his appearance was decidedly against him, and he had not yet acquired the necessary art of seeing and hearing while affecting to be doing neither; and it was easy for the dullest observer to be certain that it was not for the sake of obtaining a breakfast that he had entered the establishment.Andre had penetration enough to see the effect he had produced, and he became more and more embarrassed.He had finished his meal now and had lighted a cigar, and had ordered a small glass of brandy.Nearly all the customers had withdrawn, leaving only five or six, who were playing cards at a table near the door.Andre was anxious to see Croisenois enter his carriage, and so he lingered, ordering another glass of brandy as an excuse.
He had just been served, when a man, whose dress very much resembled his own, lounged into the wine-shop.He was a tall, clumsily built fellow, with an insolent expression upon his beardless face.His coat and cap were in an equally dilapidated condition; and in the squeaky voice of the rough, he ordered a plate of beef and half a bottle of wine, and, as he brushed past Andre, upset his glass of brandy.The artist made no remark, though he felt quite sure that this act was intentional, as the fellow laughed impudently when he saw the damage that he had done.When his breakfast was served, he carelessly spit upon Andre's boots.The insult was so apparent that Andre began to reflect.
"Had he not succeeded in eluding his spies, as he thought that he had done? And was it not quite possible that this man had been sent to pick a quarrel with him, and deal him a disabling, or even a fatal blow?"Prudence counselled him to leave the place at once, but he felt that he could not go until he had found out the real truth.There seemed to be but little doubt on the matter, however; for as the fellow cut up his meat, he jerked every bit of skin and gristle into his neighbor's lap; then, after finishing up his wine, he managed to upset the few drops remaining on to Andre's arm and shoulder.This was the finishing stroke.
"Please, remember," remarked Andre calmly, "that there is some one at the table besides yourself.""Do you think I'm blind, mate?" returned the fellow brutally."Mind your own business, or----" And to conclude the sentence, he shook his fist threateningly in the young man's face.
Andre started to his feet, and, with a well-directed blow in the chest, sent the fellow rolling under the table.
At the sound of the scuffle, the card-players turned round, and saw Andre standing erect, with quivering lips and eyes flashing with rage, while his antagonist was lying on the floor among the overturned chairs.
"Come, come! No squabbling here!" remarked one of the players.
The fellow scrambled to his feet, and made a savage rush at the young man, who, using his right foot skilfully, tripped his antagonist up, and sent him again rolling on the ground.It was most adroitly done, and secured the applause of the lookers-on, who now complained no longer, and were evidently interested in the scene.
Again the rough came up, but Andre contented himself with standing on the defensive.Some tables, a stool, and a glass were injured, and at last the proprietor came upon the scene of action.
"Get out of this," cried he, "and take care that I don't see your faces here again."At these words, the rough burst out into a torrent of foul language.
"Don't put up with his cheek," said one of the customers; "give him in charge at once."Hardly, however, had the manager started to summon the police, than, as if by magic, a body of them appeared; and Andre found himself walking down the boulevard between a couple, while his late antagonist followed in the safe custody of two more.To have attempted any resistance would have been utter folly, and the young man resigned himself to what he felt he could not help.But as he went on, he reflected on the strange scene through which he had just passed.All had gone on so rapidly that he could hardly recall the events to his memory.He was, however, quite sure that this unprovoked assault concealed some motive with which at present he was unacquainted.
The police led their prisoners through the doorway of a dingy-looking old house, and then Andre saw that he was not at the regular police-station.The whole party entered an office, where a superintendent and two clerks were at work.The ruffian who had assaulted Andre changed his manner directly he entered the office; he threw his tattered cap upon a bench, passed his fingers through his hair, and shook hands with the superintendent; he then turned to Andre.
"Permit me, sir," said he, "to compliment you on being so handy with your fists.You precious nearly did for me, I can tell you."At that moment a door opened at the other end of the room, and a voice was heard to say, "Send them in."Andre and his late antagonist soon found themselves in an office evidently sacred to some one high up in the police.At a desk near the window was seated a man, with a rather distinguished air, wearing a white necktie and a pair of gold glasses.
"Have the goodness to take a seat," said this gentleman, addressing Andre with the most perfect urbanity.
He took a chair, half stupefied by the strangeness of the whole affair, and waited.Could he be awake, or was he dreaming? He could hardly tell.
