“I don't know exactly what I should have said, but I think I can tell you what I would have done.” “Well, out with it.” “I 'd have sent for the police, and handed you over to the authorities for either a rogue or a madman.” “Bon soir. I wish you a good-night--pleasant dreams, too, if that be possible.” “Don't go. Sit down. The dawn is just breaking, and you know I ordered the horses for the first light.” “I must go into the air then. I must go where I can breathe.” “Take a cigar, and let us talk of something else.” “That is easy enough for _you_; you who treat everything as a mere passing incident, and would make life a series of unconnected episodes. You turn from this to that, just as you taste of this dish and that at dinner; but I, who want to live a life--_entends-tu?_--to live a life: to be to-morrow the successor of myself to-day, to carry with me an identity--how am I to practise your philosophy?” “Here come the horses; and I must say I am for once grateful to their jingling bells, helping as they do to drown more nonsense than even you usually give way to.” “How did we ever become friends? Can you explain that to me?” “I suppose it must have been in one of your lucid moments, Anatole--for you have them at times.” “Ah, I have! But if you 're getting complimentary, I 'd better be off. Will you look to the bill? And I'll take charge of the baggage.” CHAPTER XXXI. ON THE ROAD TO ITALY. “You 'd not guess who our neighbors of last night were, Julia,” said L'Estrange, as they sat at breakfast the next morning. “I need not guess, for I know,” said she, laughing. “The fact is, George, my curiosity was so excited to see them that I got up as they were about to start, and though the gray morning was only breaking at the time, there was light enough for me to recognize Mr. Longworth and his French friend, Count Pracontal.” “I know that; but I know more than that, Julia. What do you think of my discovery, when I tell you that this same Count Pracontal is the claimant of the Bramleigh estate?” “Is it possible?” “It is beyond a question or a doubt. I was awakened from my sleep last night by their loud talking, and unwittingly made a listener to all they said. I heard the Frenchman deplore how he had ever consented to a compromise of his claim, and then Longworth quizzed him a good deal, and attributed the regret to his not having made a harder bargain. My own conviction is that the man really felt it as a point of honor, and was ashamed at having stooped to accept less than his right.” “So then they have made a compromise, and the Bramleighs are safe?” cried she, eagerly.