"Oh yes, I noticed him as we came in. You're right, my dear Jules, that
fellow is a vulgarian. I met him once in Rome. His name is
Morgan-Mason, a deputy and very wealthy."
"Morgan-Mason!" echoed the Frenchman, looking hard at him. "Ah!" he
added, "I've heard of him, of course. Yes. Let us go," and they both
rose, descended by the lift, and drove in a hansom to Claridge's.
In the Under-Secretary's elegant little sitting-room--the room wherein
that afternoon he had accepted the German contractor's bribe on Morini's
behalf--he drew forth a box of choice cigars, and they both commenced to
smoke.
A brief and rather painful silence fell between them. Both men had that
evening exhibited towards each other a strained politeness, each knowing
that the other hated him. Dubard's defiance on the previous night had
upset all the calculations of that past-master of intrigue, Angelo
Borselli, whose dark eyes now darted a swift glance at his companion
lolling back in the big arm-chair apparently perfectly at his ease.
To Borselli's surprise, and believing that his departure had been due to
his threat on the previous night, Dubard had left Rugby for London an
hour before he had, but at four o'clock that afternoon he had sent an
invitation to the Carlton, suggesting that they should spend the evening
together at a theatre, which they had done.
There was a mystery in the Frenchman's sudden departure from Orton, and
in it Borselli suspected an ingenious move. Throughout the whole day he
had reasoned within himself, finally coming to the conclusion that it
was better to be friendly with such a man as Jules Dubard than to be his
enemy.
Dubard had seen during the evening that his companion wished to speak
with him but was hesitating. At last, however, after they had smoked in
silence for some minutes, the crafty Sicilian stroked his moustache and
exclaimed--
"I fear, my dear Jules, that I was rather hasty, perhaps rude, last
night. Yet, after all, I am very glad that you took my hint and left
Orton."
The Frenchman opened his eyes widely at the man's calm audacity.
"I did not take your hint in the least, I assure you," he exclaimed,
with quick indignation. "I left Orton for quite another reason."
The sallow-faced man smiled, as though quite unconscious of his
companion's anger.
"Yes," he said. "I know. You cannot deceive me."
"You know?" cried the Frenchman, starting to his feet. "What do you
know? Have you invited me up here to threaten me again?"
"I merely say that I know the reason why you received the letter calling
you to Paris this morning," replied the Under-Secretary in a cold, calm
voice. "It was because you met and were recognised by a certain
Englishman named Macbean, the secretary of that vulgar fellow we saw
eating his supper half an hour ago."
Dubard's jaw fell. He saw that by some utterly unaccountable means his
enemy was aware of the real reason which compelled him to fly from
Leicestershire.
Was it possible that he could know the whole truth? No; it was
impossible. Macbean dare not speak. Of that he felt quite assured.
"Ah?" continued the general, a grim smile crossing his thin, hard
features as he narrowly watched his companion. "You see I am not quite
as ignorant of the past as you believe, my dear Jules."
"Nor am I!" cried the Frenchman, turning upon him savagely. "Last night
you threatened me, remember!"
"And to-night I have invited you here, my dear friend, to arrive at some
amicable agreement that will be to our mutual advantage," answered the
clever Under-Secretary, with a suavity of manner which showed him to be
a born diplomat.
"Yes, I know," answered the other in a dry, hard voice. "This is not
the first time you and I have discussed matters, General Borselli. I
know that if it suited you you'd betray your own mother. You have no
conscience, no code of honour?"
"My code of honour is exactly the same as yours, _caro mio_," replied
the Italian, laughing. "I try to turn all I can into profit for myself,
just as you are trying to do. My maxim is `self first.'"
"And for that reason you are plotting the downfall of Morini and the
whole Ministry!"
"A work in which you are actively assisting," added the Under-Secretary.
"I did not come here to be insulted," Dubard protested.
"Neither did I invite you here to pose as a censor of political
morality," responded his shrewd companion, looking straight and
determinedly into his pale face. "But why should we quarrel, when it is
to our mutual interests to remain friendly?"
"I have not quarrelled. Last night you objected to me visiting the
Morinis."
"Because I am well aware of your object."
"I admit that I intend to marry Mary," and he removed his cigar from his
mouth and examined it.
"And you have also a further object in view, my dear count--one that is
even more interesting," declared Borselli, "a plan that I can very
easily frustrate."
"Well, you told me that last night," he said. "And I, on my part,
frankly declare that I do not in the least fear any revelations you can
make."
"Not of the affair of General Sazarac?" whispered the cunning Italian,
his dark eyes fixed upon the younger man as he bent towards him. "Have
you so completely forgotten certain events which, if recalled, would
mean--well, they would mean that you would neither marry Morini's
daughter nor be successful in the next very ingenious trick by which you
intend to make a grand _coup_ at the expense of my country."
At the mention of the name of General Sazarac the other's face blanched,
and holding his breath he stood glaring at the man who with raised
eyebrows smiled so calmly at him. He saw that this political adventurer
was aware of a certain deep, terrible secret of the past which he
believed was buried for ever. His enemy's attitude of cool confidence
was sufficient to bring him at once to a sense of his insecurity.
"Well?" he managed to gasp. "And what is your proposal?"
"Ah, my dear friend, I am glad you are ready to listen to reason,"
responded the Sicilian. "We must both face the future unshrinkingly,
you know. You have your own schemes; I have mine. By acting in accord
we shall succeed, but if we are enemies then we shall commit the very
foolish and unpardonable error of exposing each other. I know quite
well that there are certain rather unfortunate incidents regarding my
own career, those disagreeable little matters of which you have
knowledge, and by which you could retaliate. You see, I do not for a
single moment intend to deny them. On the contrary, I frankly suggest
that by an agreement of silence we can be helpful in each other's
interests. We both desire advancement, and can gain it through the
medium of Morini. Are you not agreed?"
Dubard, slowly convinced that without the general's aid he must be
powerless and in peril, nodded in the affirmative. He did not discern
the wily man's ulterior motive, or the secret reason of the proposed
compact.
"Your primary object, my dear Jules, is of course money," the general
went on. "Now, by a simple written declaration I shall absolve you from
all connection with the Sazarac affair, while you, on your part, will
deny my connection with that ugly little matter in Rome two years ago.
Both of us will then emerge again honest and upright--models of virtue.
Bygones will be bygones. I shall go my way, you will go yours; I to
assist you, and you to help me--a perfectly reciprocal arrangement. I
shall become Minister, while you--well, you will by a single _coup_
become a rich man, and at the same time gain a very charming wife."
"And Morini?"
The Under-Secretary elevated his shoulders and exhibited his palms.
"And the Englishman Macbean?"
"He is a mere fly in amber," declared the Sicilian, with a sinister
smile. "Fortune lies before us in Italy, my dear Jules--for you wealth
and a wife; for me, office and distinction. By acting in accord we have
nothing whatever to fear. Morini dare not disobey us, and Macbean,
being a poor man, will easily fall into our power. Leave him entirely
to me. I have a scheme by which he will shortly discover that his whole
future depends upon his silence, and that a single indiscreet word will
mean his ruin."
"And if that fails?"
"Then there is still that effective method which was adopted towards
Sazarac--you understand?"
The Frenchman nodded, darting a swift glance at the thin-featured man
before him.
He understood too well.