He looked very savage, and muttered something under his breath.

“You’re carrying things with a high hand,” he said.

“I’m not going to steal to please you,” said I.

“You weren’t always so scrupulous,” he sneered.

I took no notice of this insult, but repeated my determination.

“Look here, Martin,” he said, “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to think it over; and let me advise you to change your mind by then.  I don’t want to quarrel, but I’m going to have some of that money.”

Clearly he had learned statecraft in his predecessor’s school!  “Twenty-four hours is something,” thought I, and determined to try the cunning of the serpent.

“All right, colonel,” I said, “I’ll think it over.  I don’t pretend to like it; but, after all, I’m in with you and we must pull together.  We’ll see how things look to-morrow morning.”

“There’s another matter I wanted to speak to you about,” he went on.

I was now dressed, so I invited him into the breakfast-room, gave him a cup of coffee (which, to my credit, I didn’t poison), and began on my own eggs and toast.

“Fire away,” said I briefly.

“I suppose you know I’m going to be married?” he remarked.

“No, I hadn’t heard,” I replied, feigning to be entirely occupied with a very nimble egg.  “Rather a busy time for marrying, isn’t it?  Who is she?”

He gave a heavy laugh.

“You needn’t pretend to be so very innocent; I expect you could give a pretty good guess.”

“Mme. Devarges?” I asked blandly.  “Suitable match; about your age—­”

“I wish to the devil you wouldn’t try to be funny!” he exclaimed.  “You know as well as I do it’s the signorina.”

“Really?” I replied.  “Well, well!  I fancied you were a little touched in that quarter.  And she has consented to make you happy?”

I was curious to see what he would say.  I knew he was a bad liar, and, as a fact, I believe he told the truth on this occasion, for he answered: 

“Says she never cared a straw for anyone else.”

Oh, signorina!

“Not even Whittingham?” I asked maliciously.

“Hates the old ruffian!” said the colonel.  “I once thought she had a liking for you, Martin, but she laughed at the idea.  I’m glad of it, for we should have fallen out.”

I smiled in a somewhat sickly way, and took refuge in my cup.  When I emerged, I asked: 

“And when is it to be?”

“Next Saturday.”

“So soon?”

“Yes,” he said.  “Fact is, between you and me, Martin, she’s ready enough.”

This was too disgusting.  But whether the colonel was deceiving me, or the signorina had deceived him, I didn’t know—­a little bit of both, probably.  I saw, however, what the colonel’s game was plainly enough; he was, in his clumsy way, warning me off his preserves, for, of course, he knew my pretensions, and probably that they had met with some success, and I don’t think I imposed on him very much.  But I was anxious to avoid a rupture and gain time.