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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"

And never did I see a man more
confounded. But I affected to be taken up with his companion, a
sturdy, white-moustachioed old veteran, who sat back in his
chair, eyeing me with swollen cheeks and eyes surcharged with
surprise.
'Good evening, M. le Lieutenant,' I said, bowing gravely. 'It is
a fine night.'
Then the storm burst.
'Fine night!' the Captain shrieked, finding his voice at last.
'MILLE DIABLES! Are you aware, sir, that I am in possession of
this house, and that no one harbours here without my permission?
Guest? Hospitality? Bundle of fiddle-faddle! Lieutenant, call
the guard! Call the guard!' he continued passionately. 'Where
is that ape of a sergeant?'
The Lieutenant rose to obey, but I lifted my hand.
'Gently, gently, Captain,' I said. 'Not so fast. You seem
surprised to see me here. Believe me, I am much more surprised
to see you.'
'SACRE!' he cried, recoiling at this fresh impertinence, while
the Lieutenant's eyes almost jumped out of his head.
But nothing moved me.
'Is the door closed?' I said sweetly. 'Thank you; it is, I see.


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