“What's yourn?” he asked. The count smiled and shook his head. “Wal,” said Mr. Quorn, “I'll tell you what I'll do with you. I'll letter it with you. L.” “O,” said the count, still smiling. “U,” said Mr. Quorn. “I,” said the count. “It appears to me,” said Mr. Quorn, “we're on the same trail. The exalted individual we've got in mind, count, has done something. What's he done now?” He rolled his big head between his fat shoulders as he put the question, and chewed away at the great plug of tobacco in his cheek as if he were paid to do it, and as if he were paid by piecework. “Yes,” said the count, “he has done something, but that is a little vague.” “Wal, yes,” Mr. Quorn allowed, seating himself and setting both elbows on the table, “I allow it's vague, but it won't be vague to-morrow morning.” “You allude,” said the count, “to the rumor that Louis Philippe has--” “Yes, sir,” retorted Mr. Quorn, with a very bright twinkle of both eyes, “that is the rumor I allood to. That ain't vague, captain, is it? We both know all about it,” he went on, “and I reckon it ought to grease this contract just a little and make it run smooth. Your time's here, if ever it will be, and I propose we strike a bargain.” “When can you supply the goods?” asked the count. “Where?” asked Mr. Quorn, as if he were chopping something with a hatchet. “Ah,” said the count, “that has to be considered.” “Yes,” the visitor assented, “that has to be considered. I'm for having everything above-board. It ain't easy to handle the contrabands of war at a time like this, when every heraldic bird and beast in Europe is on his hind-legs and looking nine ways for Sundays. If Captain Fyffe likes to come down with me to Blackwall I can show him something. On my side I'm all ready, and when I know where the goods are to be landed I'll undertake to fulfil my part of the contract. I'll leave you to yours. Money down on delivery is the only terms. I want to know the money's there, and you want to know the goods are there. The name of the Count Ro-Say-No would be a sufficient guarantee for anybody in the world but a cuss like me. I'm business. In matters of business, gentlemen, delicacy and consideration for high-flown feelings don't enter into my composition, not for a cent's worth. If I was trading with Queen Victoria I should want to know where the money was coming from. Forty thousand sterling is a lot of money, and I expect you, as a man of the world, to excuse my curiosity.” The count rose from his seat and rang the bell by the fireplace. A servant answered it, and he said, simply: “Ask Miss Rossano to be kind enough to see me here.”