“Willingly,” answered the duke, “give me the pie!”
“I am listening,” said La Ramee, leaning back in his armchair and raising his glass of Madeira to his lips, and winking his eye that he might see the sun through the rich liquid that he was about to taste.
The duke glanced at the clock. In ten minutes it would strike seven.
Grimaud placed the pie before the duke, who took a knife with a silver blade to raise the upper crust; but La Ramee, who was afraid of any harm happening to this fine work of art, passed his knife, which had an iron blade, to the duke.
“Thank you, La Ramee,” said the prisoner.
“Well, my lord! this famous invention of yours?”