Hence the inspection passed
off peaceably; as the Marquis turned on his heel, however, he paused a
moment.
"Victor!"
"Mon Commandant?"
"I have not forgotten your insolence with those ivory toys. But Mme. la
Princesse herself has deigned to solicit that it shall be passed over
unpunished. She cannot, of course, yield to your impertinent request to
remain also unpaid for them. I charged myself with the fulfillment of
her wishes. You deserve the stick, but since Milady herself is lenient
enough to pardon you, you are to take this instead. Hold your hand,
sir!"
Cecil put out his hand; he expected to receive a heavy blow from his
commander's saber, that possibly might break the wrist. These little
trifles were common in Africa.
Instead a rouleau of Napoleons was laid on his open palm. Chateauroy
knew the gold would sting more than the blow.
For the moment Cecil had but one impulse--to dash the pieces in the
giver's face. In time to restrain the impulse, he caught sight of the
wild, eager hatred gleaming in the eyes of Rake, of Petit Picpon, of a
score of others, who loved him and cursed their Colonel, and would at
one signal from him have sheathed their swords in the mighty frame of
the Marquis, though they should have been fired down the next moment
themselves for the murder. The warning of Cigarette came to his memory;
his hand clasped on the gold; he gave the salute calmly as Chateauroy
swung himself away.
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