Avril Mai compressed her red mouth.
"We're with the CIA," said Remo.
"Moudi! I knew it. You are a CIA agent and because you are an incompetent Americain you 'ave hired ze House of Sinanju to assist you."
"Looks like you got our number," said Remo.
Abruptly Avril Mai got in front of the Master of Sinanju and paced him walking backward.
"Whatever ze Americains are paying you, France will double it. I vow zis."
"Their gold is very soft."
"Our gold is softer."
"Their gold ships on time. French gold is slow."
"Slow?"
"Yes, the gold of the Frankish kings was exceedingly slow. By the time it arrived in my village, the babies were being drowned in the cold gray waters of the bay."
"I 'ave not heard zis story."
"Slow gold is the bane of all French lieges. It is the reason my House has not served the House of Bourbon in many centuries."
"I offer speedy gold, gold zat moves with ze speed of light."
"Hey, isn't it illegal to speak English now?" said Remo.
"No. It is illegal to speak junk Americain. I am speaking the king's English."
"English is a serviceable language," Chiun admitted.
"Thanks to Guilliame le Conqueror, who gave it a certain insouciant flavor," said Avril.
"Guilliame le Conqueror?" said Remo.
"She means William the Conqueror," explained Chiun.
"After ze Battle of Hastings, Britain became a vassal of the Normans, and our language elevated ze true, good English. It is much like ze way your junk tongue debased our pure French, except in reverse."
"Le crap," said Remo.
They were walking along a footpath that meandered through the plastic ferns and other trees. From time to time a branch-dwelling bird would track them with dark, glassy eyes.
"We are being watched," Avril said.
"Your name really Avril Mai?"
"Non."
"Betcha I can make you tell ...."
"Impossible."
"Her name is Dominique Parillaud," said the Master of Sinanju, striding along with his hands tucked into the sleeves of his kimono.
"Mouth! How'd you come by zis intelligence?"
"Very simply," said Chiun.
Dominique Parillaud gasped. "I am Agent Arlequin in all but ze most confidential files of ze DGSE. Merde! I 'ave given myself away."
And the Master of Sinanju separated his sleeves. Out came one ivory hand, a slim black leather wallet tucked between two fingers.
"I picked your pocket," he said. "Your true name was inscribed on a card."
"My driver's license!" Dominique said, snatching the wallet away.
Remo laughed. "Some agent."
Then he stopped laughing. They all stopped.
Not far away the branches were squealing and rustling.
"I don't hear any thudding," said Remo.
"What is zis zudding?" Dominique said.
"I said I don't hear any-"
"Ze word! What does ze word zudding mean?"
"Look it up sometime," said Remo, who fixed the sound with his ears and decided to climb a tree. " Under z."
He got to the top in about the time it would have taken a monkey to do it.
"Do you see anyzing?" Dominique asked anxiously.
"I think we're okay. It's just an apatosaur."
"What is zat?"
"Brontosaurus," said Remo.
And the head burst into view. It was gray and blunt and decorated with dark, soulful eyes. It hovered in the ferns like a disembodied python. The rest of its body was lost in the greenery.