ve brought a lady from France and
robbed her, that you have robbed my uncle, and have threatened to fire on
the town--somehow they seem no particular affair of mine except for this:
You seem to think that I am incapable of doing anything to hinder you,
and frankly, sir, this hurts my pride. You feel that I am going to sit by
passively and watch you."

I came a step nearer, but he did not draw back. He only continued
watching me with a patient intentness, which seemed gradually to merge
into some more active interest. His interest deepened when I spoke again,
but that was all.

"You feel I am going to be still, and do nothing, even after you
drugged me last evening. Did you think I would not resent it? You are
mistaken, father."

My father rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I had not thought of it exactly so," he said, "yet I had to keep
you quiet."

"So, if the tables were turned, and I were you, and you were I, you would
hardly let matters go on without joining in?"

"Hardly," he agreed. "You have thought the matter out very prettily, my
son. It is an angle I seem to have neglected. It only remains to ask what
you are going to do. Let us trust it will be nothing stupid."

"I am glad you understand," I said, "because now it will be perfectly
clear why I am asking you for the paper, and you will appreciate any
steps I may take to get it."

He cast a quick glance around the room, and seemed satisfied that we were
quite alone.

"Do I understand," he inquired, "that you have asked me for the paper?"

I nodded, and his voice grew thoughtfully gentle.

"You interest me," he said. "I have a penchant for mysteries. May I ask
why you believe I shall give it to you?"

"I shall try to show you," I said, and tossed aside my coat and drew my
small sword.

He stood rigid and motionless, and his face became more set and
expressionless than I had ever seen it; but before he could speak,
Mademoiselle had sprung between us.

"You fool!" she cried. "Put up your sword. Will you not be quiet as I
told you?"

"Be seated, Mademoiselle," said my father gently. "Where are your senses,
Henry? Can you not manage without creating a scene? Put up your sword. I
cannot draw against you."

Mademoiselle, paler than I had seen her before, sank back into her chair.

"I am sorry you find yourself unable," I said, "because I shall attack
you in any event."

"What can you be thinking of?" my father remonstrated. "Engage me with a
small