nce of the chateau, and he
sauntered slowly up to it.

In the middle of it stood M. Gournay-Martin, a big, round, flabby hulk
of a man. He was nearly as red in the face as M. Charolais; and he
looked a great deal redder owing to the extreme whiteness of the
whiskers which stuck out on either side of his vast expanse of cheek.
As he came up, it struck the Duke as rather odd that he should have the
Charolais eyes, set close together; any one who did not know that they
were strangers to one another might have thought it a family likeness.

The millionaire was waving his hands and roaring after the manner of a
man who has cultivated the art of brow-beating those with whom he does
business; and as the Duke neared the group, he caught the words:

"No; that's the lowest I'll take. Take it or leave it. You can say Yes,
or you can say Good-bye; and I don't care a hang which."

"It's very dear," said M. Charolais, in a mournful tone.

"Dear!" roared M. Gournay-Martin. "I should like to see any one else
sell a hundred horse-power car for eight hundred pounds. Why, my good
sir, you're having me!"

"No, no," protested M. Charolais feebly.

"I tell you you're having me," roared M. Gournay-Martin. "I'm letting
you have a magnificent car for which I paid thirteen hundred pounds for
eight hundred! It's scandalous the way you've beaten me down!"

"No, no," protested M. Charolais.

He seemed frightened out of his life by the vehemence of the big man.

"You wait till you've seen how it goes," said M. Gournay-Martin.

"Eight hundred is very dear," said M. Charolais.

"Come, come! You're too sharp, that's what you are. But don't say any
more till you've tried the car."

He turned to his chauffeur, who stood by watching the struggle with an
appreciative grin on his brown face, and said: "Now, Jean, take these
gentlemen to the garage, and run them down to the station. Show them
what the car can do. Do whatever they ask you--everything."

He winked at Jean, turned again to M. Charolais, and said: "You know,
M. Charolais, you're too good a man of business for me. You're hot
stuff, that's what you are--hot stuff. You go along and try the car.
Good-bye--good-bye."

The four Charolais murmured good-bye in deep depression, and went off
with Jean, wearing something of the air of whipped dogs. When they had
gone round the corner the millionaire turned to the Duke and said, with
a chuckle: "He'll buy the car all right--had him fine!"