He bowed humbly, not without
trepidation.
"Madame la Vicomtesse!" he said.
By this time Nick had risen, and he, too, was staring at her. How he
managed to appear so well dressed was a puzzle to me.
"Madame," he said, bowing, "I beg your pardon. I thought you were
that--I beg your pardon."
"I understand your feelings, sir," answered the Vicomtesse as she
courtesied.
"Egad," said Nick, and looked at her again. "Egad, I'll be hanged if
it's not--"
It was the first time I had seen the Vicomtesse in confusion. And indeed
if it were confusion she recovered instantly.
"You will probably be hanged, sir, if you do not mend your company," she
said. "Do you not think so, Mr. Ritchie?"
"Davy!" he cried. And catching sight of me in the doorway, over her
shoulder, "Has he followed me here too?" Running past the Vicomtesse, he
seized me in his impulsive way and searched my face. "So you have
followed me here, old faithful! Madame," he added, turning to the
Vicomtesse, "there is some excuse for my getting into trouble."
"What excuse, Monsieur?" she asked. She was smiling, yet looking at us
with shining eyes.
"The pleasure of having Mr. Ritchie get me out," he answered. "He has
never failed me."
"You are far from being out of this," I said. "If the Baron de
Carondelet does not hang you or put you in the Morro, you will not have
me to thank.
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