“When the enemies of Dreyfus are forced to get a woman to do their wretched work of murder, they have fallen pretty low!” said the man, with deep contempt.
The woman seemed to force a laugh from her lips, which had grown colorless beneath their rouge.
“What are you talking about, you old fool?” she exclaimed, rather coarsely. “You are crazy! You should be incarcerated in an asylum, and not permitted to run around here and frighten folks with your wild babble.”
Mr. Noname drew himself up, speaking quietly, so that he did not seem to be saying anything unusual. In fact, everything that had taken place at that table had occurred so quietly that those at the tables in the immediate vicinity were not aware anything out of the ordinary was happening.
“Others whom I have exposed in their deviltry have tried to make the public believe me insane,” said Mr. Noname. “They have not been successful, for always have I proved everything I have charged against them. You, woman with the hidden face, I charge with an attempt at murder!”
“Gentlemen,” she said, turning to Merry and Diamond, “will you be good enough to call a waiter. I wish to enter complaint against this crazy man.”
“Call a waiter,” said Mr. Noname. “I will call one for you.”
He did so, making a signal which caused one of the waiters to approach.
“Now enter your complaint!” said the Mystery, in a low, cold tone of voice, his eyes fixed on the woman; “but remember that I have this fan in my possession.”
The waiter came up, and asked what was wanted.
“The lady requested that you be summoned,” said Mr. Noname. “She is the one who wants you.”
The waiter turned toward her inquiringly. She hesitated, while Mr. Noname regarded her in grim, unbroken silence. All at once she laughed. Then she ordered absinthe for herself, and told the waiter to bring any drinks the others might wish.
The waiter looked to the others for orders, but received none. He departed.
“Oh, why do you stare at me like that, old man?” cried the masked woman.
“I stare at you because I can see beneath that mask; I can see beneath the flesh that covers your bones; I can see the grinning death-head you carry on your shoulders!”
“How terrible! You would do well at frightening children. Why, you would be as good as a jack-in-the-box! Give me back my fan.”