"You are bolder than I thought, and readier," the count said; "but you
have gone too far, and I shall meet you as soon as you please. I don't
know whether you believe that this has been part of my plan, or whether
you care to hear me deny it. If you believe me a liar, you can easily
believe me assassin also. I will bid you good-night, Don Francis. We
know where to find each other."

I told him that my friend, Mr. Robert Malcolm, of the English Legation,
would receive any friend of his, at any hour--the sooner the better. He
went away.

I removed my foot from the marchese's neck and told him to get up.

"You see, my lord, what your friend thinks of you by the way he has
disavowed your performance and left you in the mud," I said. "Give
yourself the trouble to go to your own house." I gave him the road and
waited while he walked swiftly away. I incline to believe that he was
mad, this miserable man. He said nothing--not one word--but did exactly
as he was told. I could barely make out the outline of him in the
darkness, and could not see his eyes. I know that they were white and
scared.




CHAPTER XLV

THE MEETING