Pulp Fiction, 1909 · page 65 of 227
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252 settle with him soon as late. If there is a duel to be fought—” “IT am not yet at liberty to give you the information you ask,” he interposed. “You see, [ am the lawyer of the.estate ; not your personal advocate. So I must do justice alike to all legal claimants. Personally, as | wrote you, I believe your claim just, and yourself the natural suc- cessor. But, until I can fully establish those facts and hear in full the preten- sions of—” . “T understand,” I broke in, rising. I knew well the dreary, long-winded technicalities of French law. It could not be hurried. “Moreover,” he added, “ even though _ you are proven the rightful wearer of the title ‘ Vicomte de Chevreuse,’ it will not only be an empty honor in these days of equality, but may even implicate you as an aristocrat. IL speak unprofession- ally, of course,’ hewafinished nervously. You see, I—” “T know,” said I, “‘ yet Iam minded to claim the title. For myself, it means nothing. I am an American, born and bred; and to America I shall return, when this business is at an end. Yet,” thinking of Elise and her father, “IT wish to prove my right to the title, none the less. As’ for the estates and the money, I shall need those for the same- cause, I beg you will use all diligence in my behalf.” | When I reached the outer office, where Shadrach was awaiting me, | found him doubled up on a high stool, poring over a shabby little book, his lips moving noiselessly, his forehead puckered. It was not the first time I had caught him thus engaged. Now, as always before, at sight of me he thrust the book into his deerskin blouse. But he saw that I had noted his action. As we; passed out into the street, he cleared his throat, and remarked, with some nervousness : “ Know what I was doin’?” “No,” “I answered. ‘“ What?” Instead of replying directly, he drew a long breath, and then burst forth into a jumble of fearsome sounds. “Thar!” he ended, with sheepish pride. ‘ How’s that?” “Ts it a Choctaw war-whoop?” I asked, ‘* or—” daughter sprang to their feet. Va THE ARGOSY. “It’s French!” he retorted, deeply offended. ‘An’ you pretend to know the language, an’ can’t even understand it! What I said was French for ‘ Have you the pen, ink, an’ paper of your. gran’ther’s wife?’ ” = “Oho! It was a French text-book you were studying? Good for you! Now say the sentence again, a little slower this time. French people don’t talk quite so explosively.” “ Avvy—voo—lay—ploom,—iI—” he began pompously. Then, with a rueful sigh: “The whole meagly thing’s slipped me ag’in! But I'll git it some time or other. When you goin’ to call on Miss Elise? ” I consulted my watch. “It is nearly noon,” I answered. ‘‘T’ll go as soon as we reach the hotel.” “You were silly not to take her home from that convent place last night. She’d likely ’a’ squealed ‘I’m your’n!’ the minute she clapped eyes on you, an’ found it was you that let her out of . the convent.” ‘““T’ve told you once that I want her love, not her thanks,” I replied. éé And—”’ ‘“An’ I’ve told you twice you're fool- ish. ‘Trouble’s l’ble to come from that breed of nonsense.”’ I laughed at him, and ran up the broad stairs of the hotel to the door of the De Périer suite. To the answering “ Entrez!’ I swung open the door and entered the spacious old drawing-room. Elise and her father were seated near the window, deep in talk. A _ glance showed me that Elise had been weeping. On her white face I read, too, that harassed, almost heart-broken look which had so distressed me the night before. At sight of me, both father and } I hur- ried forward edgerly, then halted. For, instead of the welcoming smile I had looked to see, De Perier’s pale old eyes were ablaze with wrath. Elise had shrunk back at my advance, as though I had struck her. And thus, for an instant, we three stood. It was De Périer who broke the silence. ‘It is well you have come, monsieur,” he said, in a voice shaking with rage, ‘though I scarce expected such effront- MICLOOO (Cc S (C@