"Have you authority to question me?" Barrington asked.

"Papers here," said the man, touching his coat, "and this." His hand
fell upon a pistol in his belt.

"Leave it there. It is the safest place."

Seth's hands had come from his pocket with a pistol in it. Barrington
still laughed.

"My friend seems as suspicious as you are. Let me end it, for truly I
expected to be drinking with you before this, instead of trying to find
a cause for quarrel. Your eyes must be sharp indeed if you can discover
an aristocrat in me. I was for freedom and the people before you had
struck a blow for the cause here in France. We are from the coast,
before that from America, and we journey to Paris to offer our services
to the Marquis de Lafayette."

Perhaps the man believed him, perhaps he did not, but the result of an
appeal to force was doubtful, and wine was an attraction. He held out
his hand with an air that the welcome of France was in the action. For
the present they could pose as friends, whatever might chance in the
future.

"Sieur Motier the Marquis is now called, but in America that name would
not appeal. We may drown our mistake in wine, the first but maybe not
the last time we shall drink together."

The landlord brought in the wine and departed without being questioned.