That question seemed to arouse him. He felt hastily in his
pockets,--and then at the result my eyes opened wide. Thrusting his
hand into a secret pocket, he drew forth an enormous roll of
greenbacks, and I could see the figures "100" on each of the notes as
he ran over them. That bundle alone must have contained several
thousands of dollars. But the worthy Mr. Blocque did not seem in the
least consoled.
"He got _the other bundle_!" shrieked the victim, still in his wild
falsetto; "it was ten thousand dollars--I had just received it this
evening--I am robbed!--they are going to murder me!--Where is the
police!--murder!"
I laid my hand upon his arm.
"You have lost a very considerable sum," I said, "but--you may lose
more still."
And I pointed to the roll of bank notes in his hand, with a significant
glance. At these words he started.
"You are right, colonel!" he said, hastily; "I may be attacked again! I
may be robbed of all--they may finish me! I will get home as quickly as
I can! Thank you, colonel! you have saved me from robbery and murder!
Come and see me, colonel. Come and dine with me, my dear sir! At five,
precisely!"
And Mr. Blocque commenced running wildly toward a place of safety.
In a moment he had disappeared, and I found myself alone--laughing
heartily.
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