At last, among the press of people, as he was passing out, our hero
became aware that he had been brought into contact with Lovelock,
who was walking just beside him. At the same moment Lovelock noticed
him--looked at him for an instant, and then looked away. But he
looked back again the next instant, and the two men then uttered that
inarticulate and inexpressive exclamation which passes for a sign of
greeting among gentlemen of the Anglo-Saxon race, in their moments of
more acute self-consciousness.
"Oh, are you here?" said Bernard. "I thought you were in Paris."
"No; I ain't in Paris," Lovelock answered with some dryness. "Tired of
the beastly hole!"
"Oh, I see," said Bernard. "Excuse me while I put up my umbrella."
He put up his umbrella, and from under it, the next moment, he saw the
Captain waving two fingers at him out of the front of a hansom. When
he returned to his hotel he found on his table a letter superscribed in
Gordon Wright's hand. This communication ran as follows:
"I believe you are making a fool of me. In Heaven's name, come back to
Paris! G. W."
Bernard hardly knew whether to regard these few words as a further
declaration of war, or as an overture to peace; but he lost no time in
complying with the summons they conveyed.
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