Those articles
provide for a certain distribution of the spoil. My men demand it.
They are not satisfied."
"Of what are they not satisfied?" demanded the Baron.
"Of your honesty, M. de Rivarol."
A blow in the face could scarcely have taken the Frenchman more
aback. He stiffened, and drew himself up, his eyes blazing, his
face of a deathly pallor. The clerks at the tables laid down their
pens, and awaited the explosion in a sort of terror.
For a long moment there was silence. Then the great gentleman
delivered himself in a voice of concentrated anger. "Do you really
dare so much, you and the dirty thieves that follow you? God's
Blood! You shall answer to me for that word, though it entail
a yet worse dishonour to meet you. Faugh!"
"I will remind you," said Blood, "that I am speaking not for myself,
but for my men. It is they who are not satisfied, they who threaten
that unless satisfaction is afforded them, and promptly, they will
take it."
"Take it?" said Rivarol, trembling in his rage. "Let them attempt
it, and.
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