"Alphonse," I said, "this gentleman is my friend. He cannot quite
believe that you can be true to me and yet satisfy your superiors in
the police."
"Oh, monsieur!" exclaimed Alphonse. He was evidently hurt.
"To relieve him, tell monsieur of our little arrangement."
"The letters, monsieur?"
"Yes."
"Well, my master is kind enough to leave open certain letters. They
have been found to be of interest. My pay has been raised.
Circumstances make it desirable."
"What is her name?" said Merton, laughing.
"Louise."
"What letters, Greville, do you turn over for the recreation and
service of the Foreign Office?"
"My uncle's," said I, "usually."
"Ah, I see. The old gentleman's opinions must be
refreshing--authoritative they are, I am sure. When last I saw him he
had, as usual, secret intelligence from the army. He always has. I
think with joy of the effect of his letters on the young secretaries
of the Foreign Office."
I confessed my own pleasure in the game, and was about to let Alphonse
go when Merton said:
"May I take a great liberty?"
"Certainly," I laughed--"short of taking Alphonse. What is it?"
"Alphonse," asked Merton, "would you know the lady you followed and
guided that night in the Bois?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Do you want to make two hundred francs?"
"Without doubt."
"Find that woman and I will give you three hundred."
"It will be difficult. Paris is large and women are numerous."
"Yes, but there is the Count le Moyne as a clue."
"Yes, yes." He seemed to be thinking. Then he turned to me.
"If monsieur approves and can do without me for two days?"
"Certainly." I was not very anxious to add the woman to our increasing
collection of not easily solved problems, but Merton was so eager that
I decided to make this new move in our complicated game.
Alphonse stood still a moment.
"Well?" I said.
"The lady, monsieur,--she is, I think, not French."
"No; she is an American, and that is all we know."
"But that is much. Then I am free to-morrow?"
"Yes," and he left us.
"What a fine specimen!" said the captain; "scamp rather than
scoundrel. Well, I suppose I shall hear from the count and Porthos and
the little man with the pink kid gloves--Aramis. I hate the little
animal, but Porthos--I want you to see Porthos. He has gigantic
manners. He is so conscious of his bigness, and makes chests at you
like a pouter pigeon. He has a bass voice like a war-drum. Things
shake. Oh, I like Porthos. Pardon my nonsense, Greville, but the whole
thing is so big, so grotesquely huge. Tell me about Athos, the count.
Your cigars were not bought in France; may I have another? Thanks. You
were to see him to-day."
"Yes; I called on him, and I assure you," I replied, "that nothing you
have told me is more wonderful than my sequel. I did think you had the
original _trois mousquetaires_ rather too much on your mind, but
really, the resemblance is certainly fascinating."
"But what about the count? You have seen him, I suppose."
"Yes, I saw Count le Moyne. He lives in a charming little hotel near
the Parc Monceaux. He had my card in his hand when I entered. He
welcomed me quite warmly, and said, 'It is odd, as you are of your
legation, that we have never met; but then I am only of late
transferred from Vienna. Pray sit down.'
"I was sure that for a fraction of a moment he did not identify me,
but as I spoke, my voice, as so often happens, revealed more than the
darkness had made visible. I observed at once that, although still
extremely courteous, he became more cool and looked puzzled.
"I said: 'Monsieur, last night, in the darkness, I gave you by mistake
the card of my friend Captain Merton in place of my own. I have called
in person solely to apologize for my blunder.' As I spoke I stood up,
adding, 'As this is my only purpose, I shall leave you to rearrange
matters as may seem best to you.'