"
"By the crews? But they will be _there_! It is of the essence of
your surprise that they, too, will return from Guernsey and join you
in time. Next, of the Looe Artillery, how many?"
"You may put them down at seventy, all told."
"One hundred and eighty, and seventy--that makes two hundred and
fifty; and the cognac at six francs a gallon; and this Captain Pond
commended to me for the deepest man in Looe! It is you--it is he--it
is I--it is all of us together that are in luck's way!" M. Dupin
leapt up, snapped his bony fingers triumphantly; then, thrusting his
hands beneath his coat-tails and clasping them, strode to and fro in
front of the Major, for all the world like a long-legged chanticleer.
Ah, but wait a moment! Vainglorious bird of Gaul, or of the island
contiguous, wait a moment ere you crow before the Mayor of Troy!
For a moment the Major lay back in his chair, to all appearance
stupefied, confounded. Then he too rose, his lips working, his hand
shaking for one instant only as with his pipe-stem he traced a
magnificent curve upon the evening sky.
"Sit down!" he commanded. "Your plan is clever enough; but I have
another worth ten of it."
And, laying down his pipe, this extraordinary man lifted the decanter
and refilled his glass to the brim without spilling a drop.
What was the Major's plan? Wait again, and you shall see it evolved
in operation.
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