"I have every intention of so doing, my dear sir.... But you must
appreciate I have incurred considerable personal danger, hardship, and
inconvenience in taking good care of this document, in seeing that it did
not fall into the wrong hands; in short, in bringing it safely here to you
to-night."
A slightly longer pause prefaced Stanistreet's reply, something which
he delivered in measured tones: "I am able to promise you the British
Government will show due appreciation of your disinterested services,
Monsieur--Duchemin."
"Not disinterested--not that!" the cheat protested. "Gentlemen of my
kidney, sir, seldom put themselves out except in lively anticipation of
favours to come."
"Be good enough to make yourself more clear."
"Cheerfully. I possess this document. I understand its character is such
that Germany would pay a round price for it. But I am a good patriot. In
spite of the fact that nobody knew I possessed it, in spite of the fact
that I need only have quietly taken it to Seventy-ninth Street to-night--"
"Monsieur Duchemin!" Stanistreet's voice was icy. "Your price?"
"Sorry you feel that way about it," said "Karl" with ill-concealed
insincerity. "You must know thieving is no more what it once was. Even I,
too, often am put to it to make both ends--"
"If you please, sir--how much?"
"Ten thousand dollars."
Silence greeted this demand, a lull that to Lanyard seemed endless. For in
his fury he was trembling so that he feared lest his agitation betray him.
The very walls before his eyes seemed to quake in sympathy. He was aware of
the ache of swollen veins in his temples, his teeth hurt with the pressure
put upon them, his breath came heavily, and his nails were digging
painfully into his palms.
"Blensop?"
"Sir?"
"How much have we on hand, in the emergency fund?"
"Between ten and twelve thousand dollars, sir."
"Intuition, monsieur, is an indispensable item in the equipment of a
successful _chevalier d'Industrie_. So, at least, the good novelists tell
us...."
"Open the safe, Blensop, and fetch me ten thousand dollars."
"Very good, sir."
"I presume you won't object to satisfying me that you really have this
document, before I pay you your price."
"It is this which makes it a pleasure to deal with an Englishman, monsieur:
one may safely trust his word of honour."
"Indeed...."
"Permit me: here is the document. Use that magnifying glass I see by your
elbow, monsieur; take your time, satisfy yourself."
"Thanks; I mean to."
Another break in the dialogue, during which the eavesdropper heard an
odd sound, a sort of muffled swishing ending in a slight thud, then the
peculiar metallic whine of a combination dial rapidly manipulated, finally
the dull clank of bolts falling back into their sockets.
"Your _coffre-fort_--what do you say?--strong-box--safe--is cleverly
concealed, Colonel Stanistreet."
There was no direct reply, but after a moment Stanistreet announced
quietly: "This seems to be an authentic paper.... Monsieur Duchemin, what
knowledge precisely have you of the nature of this document?"
"Surely monsieur cannot have overlooked the circumstance that its seals
were intact."
"True," Stanistreet admitted. "Still...."
"I trust Monsieur does not question my good faith?"
"Why not?" Stanistreet enquired drily.
"Monsieur!"
"Oh, damn your play-acting, sir! If you can be capable of one infamy, you
are capable of more. None the less, you are right about an Englishman's
word: here is your money. Count it and--get out!"
"Thanks"--the impostor's tone was an impertinently exact imitation of
Stanistreet's--"I mean to."
"Permit me to excuse myself," Stanistreet added; and Lanyard heard the
muffled scrape of chair-legs on the rug as the Englishman got up.
"Gladly," the spy returned--"and ten thousand thanks, monsieur!"
The secretary intoned melodiously: "This way, Monsieur Duchemin, if you
please."
"Pardon. Is it material which way I leave?"
"What do you mean?" Stanistreet demanded.
"I should be far easier in my mind if monsieur would permit me to go by way
of his garden, rather than run the risk of his front door."
"What's this?"
"In these little affairs, monsieur, I try to make it a rule to avoid
covering the same ground twice."
"You have the insolence to imply I would lend myself to treachery!"
"I beg monsieur's pardon very truly for suggesting such a thing.
Nevertheless, one cannot well be overcautious when one is a hunted man."
"Blensop ... be good enough to see this man out through the garden."
"Yes, sir."
"Again, monsieur, my thanks."
"Good-night," said Stanistreet curtly.
Blensop passed Lanyard's chair, unlatched and opened the window and stood
aside. An instant later "Karl" joined him, swung on a heel, facing back,
clicked heels again and bowed mockingly. Apparently he got no response, for
he laughed quietly, then turned and went out through the window, Blensop
mincing after.
With a struggle Lanyard mastered the temptation to dash after the spy,
overtake and overpower him, expose and give him up to justice. Only the
knowledge that by remaining quiescent, by biding his time, he might be
enabled to redeem his word to the Brooke girl, gave him strength to be
still.
But he suffered exquisitely, maddened by the defamation imposed upon his
nick-name of a thief by this brazen impostor.
Nor was wounded _amour-propre_ mended by an exclamation in the room behind
his chair, the accents of Colonel Stanistreet thick with contempt:
"The Lone Wolf! Faugh!"