, with her triumphant aeronaut, the Baron and Baronessa, radiant
with satisfaction in the success of their plot, arm in arm between the
two couples.

Having seen my little Daniel to the gate of the Lions' Den, I shook
hands cordially with everybody, Paolo last of all. He placed his
fingers with haughty reluctance in my ostentatiously proffered palm,
but I held the four chilly, fish-like things (chilly only for me) long
enough to mutter, _sotto voce_: "I want a word with you on a matter of
importance. I'll walk up and down the road for twenty minutes."

His impulse was to refuse, I could see by the sharp upward toss of his
chin. But a certain quality in my look, clearly visible to him in the
light of the gate lamp (I was at some pains to produce the effect),
warned him that if his bloodthirsty plans were not to be nipped in the
red bud, he must bend his will to mine in this one instance.

He answered with a glance, and I knew that I should not be kept long
on my beat.

CHAPTER XXII

An American Custom

"Oh, have it your own way; I am too old a hand to argue
with young gentlemen, . . . I have too much experience,
thank you."--R.L. STEVENSON.

Five minutes, ten minutes passed, after the farewells. Then, as I
sauntered by on the other side of the way, I heard the sound of a foot
on gravel, and Paolo di Nivoli appeared under the gate light. There he
paused, expecting me to cross to him, but I allotted him the part of
Mahomet and selected for myself that of the Mountain. Shrugging his
square shoulders, he came striding over the road to me; and I had
scored one small victory. I hoped that I might take it for an omen.

"I do not understand the nature of this appointment, Monsieur," began
the Italian. "I intended to send my friend Captain de Sales to you
to----"

"Ah, yes, that is the Continental way in these little affairs," I
ventured to interrupt him coolly. "On our side of the Channel we are
rather ignorant on such matters, I fear. But my young friend Mr.
Laurence is an American."

"Do you mean that he will refuse to fight, after insulting me?" asked
Paolo, bristling.

"Not at all. He is very young, and this will be his first duel. He may
have misunderstood your intentions. But I gathered from him that you
had said he would have to fight; that you then requested him to name
a friend to whom you could send a friend of yours----"

"This is the fact. There was no misunderstanding. He named