CHAPTER X.THE BAISER LAMOURETTE.
Presently Charlot turned to La Boulaye, and for all that he uttered no word, his glance left nothing to be said.

In response to it Caron stirred at last, and came leisurely over to the table.
"A mouthful of wine, and I'm gone, Charlot," said he in level, colourless tones, as taking up a flagon he filled himself a goblet.
"Fill for me, too," cried the Captain; "aye, and for the Citoyenne here.
Come, my girl, a cup of wine will refresh you." But Suzanne shrank from the invitation as much as from the tenor of it and the epithet he had applied to her.

Observing this, he laughed softly.
"Oh! As you will.

But the wine is good-from cellar of a ci-devant Duke.
My service to you, Citoyenne," he pledged her, and raising his cup, he poured the wine down a throat that was parched by the much that he had drunk already, But ere the goblet was half-empty, a sharp, sudden cry from La Boulaye came to interrupt his quaffing.

He glanced round, and at what he saw he spilled the wine down his waistcoat, then let the cup fall to the ground, as with an oath he flung himself upon the girl.
She had approached the table whilst both men were drinking, and quietly possessed herself of a knife; and, but that it was too blunt to do the service to which she put it, Charlot's intervention would have come too late.