"It is plain enough," said he. "Chu-Chu hoped to get within striking distance of Frank. When he saw that he had been recognised he gave it up in disgust. Chu-Chu has been haunting the café opposite since he recovered from his wound. Do take some of this ice. It is delicious—especially to-day, when the atmosphere is so hot and heavy. One can hardly get one's breath."
I was looking at Léontine and I saw her eyes open wider and the colour fade in her cheeks.
"Ivan! " she cried. "Are you ill?"
"I—I do feel—a little—odd," he answered in a stifled voice. I turned sharply to look at him, and saw that his lips were blue and a curious mottled look was spreading over his face. He glanced from one to the other of us, then stared at his plate. His breath was coming in gasps and his face was tense and wore a startled, frightened expression, but even as I watched him this passed and he smiled.
"Ah!" he said quickly. "I begin to understand. So—that—was—Chu-Chu's—errand here! And Victor?" His head fell forward, but he jerked it back.
Léontine sprang to her feet. Ivan's face was blue and his eyes protruded.
"It's—that ice! Don't—touch it, my—friends! That strong flavour of the peach-pits—I— I—ought to—have known!"
Suddenly he pitched forward across the table. I sprang to my feet and, lifting him in my arms, carried him to the divan, laid him down and tore open his collar. His face was cyanosed, as the face of a person under gas.
