"Why go farther, M. le Comte?"
"Do you long for interruption'?"
"We were not noticed coming in. The street was quiet."
He crossed the court abruptly and went down the alley to look into the
street.
"Not a soul in sight," he said, coming back. "I think we shall not be
interrupted. Still, it is wise to use every care. We will fight, if you
like, in the house."
He opened with his knife the fastened shutter, and leaped lightly in.
Monsieur followed. I, the last, was for closing the shutter, but he
stopped me.
"No; leave it wide. I have no fancy for a walk in pitch-darkness with M.
Lucas."
"Do we fight here?" Lucas asked, facing us in the wide, square hall. "We
can let in more light."
"You seem anxious, my friend, to call attention to your whereabouts. As
I am host, I designate the fighting-ground. Up-stairs, if you please."
"I suppose you insist on my walking first," Lucas sneered.
"I request it, monsieur."
"With all the willingness in the world," his rogue-ship answered,
setting foot straightway on the stair and mounting steadily, never
turning to see how near we followed, or what we did with our hands. His
trust made me ashamed of our lack of it. I almost believed we did him
injustice. Yet at heart I could not bring myself to credit him with any
fair dealing.
We went up one flight, up two.
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