"You might even try to pa.s.s them off, if the joke appeals to you!"

Fandor's replies were monosyllables: he was watching the machine.

"What a childish trick!" he said to himself: "Why, these notes dropped into my hands are real!... This machine does not print anything!... My new friend has slipped these notes under the rollers as payment for future treachery, expected betrayals--it is a way of paying me!"

Corporal Fandor-Vinson found the necessary words to show he fully understood the quality of the payment--its real value. Supposing that no more would be required of him, he tried to get free of this spy, and leave the premises, but his red-bearded paymaster had other views.

"Now, Corporal," said he, "shall we empty a bottle together in honour of our meeting?"

Fandor was far from wishing to clink gla.s.ses with the spy: still, needs must when the devil drives you into a tight corner of your own choosing! The offer was accepted with feigned pleasure. Corporal Fandor-Vinson kept a smiling face, whilst, gla.s.s in hand, he talked trivialities with his host.

At last Corporal Fandor-Vinson rose:

"My leave has not expired, it is true, Monsieur," he said, "but I have some rounds to make. Pray excuse me!"

The thin, red-bearded young man did not seek to detain him. The interview was at an end: the business done for that evening.

"You will return, will you not, Corporal?" asked his host. "We are at your disposal, I and my brother, whenever you have need of us--our friends also. They will regret having arrived too late to meet you!...

And, Corporal ... we know some officers--if you want leave now and again--you must let us know--will you not?"

Corporal Fandor-Vinson said the expected things, and hastened away, glad to be quit of this red-bearded young spy of a printer. He hurried off towards the centre of the town, covering his tracks as Juve had taught him how to do. He had time to spare before returning to barracks. He entered a small cafe and ordered a drink.

"Behold me one of the precious spy circle of Verdun," thought he. "I must make the most of my privileges."

His gla.s.s remained untouched while he sat thinking long and deeply.

XVI

AT THE ELYSeE BALL

The ball was in full swing. There was a crush in the brilliantly lighted reception-rooms of the Elysee. Prominent members of Parliament, diplomats, officers naval and military, representatives of the higher circles of commerce, and finance, rubbed shoulders with the undistinguished, at the official reception given in honour of j.a.pan's new amba.s.sador, Prince Ito. The prince was stationed in the centre of the inmost drawing-room, gorgeously arrayed in his national costume, a delicate smile on his lips as he watched the President's guests with bright shrewd eyes, while music from an invisible Hungarian band floated on the air.

In this particular room two men were in earnest conversation: Colonel Hofferman and Lieutenant de Loubersac.

"Well, Lieutenant, I have been too pressed for time to-day to see you ...

but, Heaven knows, I have not forgotten for a moment the matter I entrusted to you.... They are causing me the greatest anxiety."...

"I can well understand that, Colonel."...

"Anything new?"

"No, Colonel.... That is to say--I ought to say 'No' to you."...

"What the devil do you mean?" The colonel stared at his junior a moment; then, taking him by the arm, said in a confidential tone:

"Let us take a turn in the garden, it is not cold.... We had better have our talk away from such a collection as this ... one does not know who or what one's neighbours may be."

"Right, Colonel, prudence is the mother of surety."

The colonel shrugged.

"I have no desire to pun, but since you speak of La Surete,[4] I cannot help noticing that they are blundering terribly over these very affairs. Confound those clumsy fools and their meddling! They will interfere with things which are no concern of theirs--not in the slightest!"

[Footnote 4: La Surete-Scotland Yard detective service.]

"Are they still investigating?"

"No. The warning I myself administered to their famous Juve has taught them a lesson. They are keeping quiet at present. Plague take the lot of them!... It makes me furious when I think what happened the other day--creating a scandal about things the public ought to be kept in ignorance of--ought never to hear of--never!... Those confounded meddlers complicate our task abominably."

Colonel Hofferman paused: de Loubersac kept a discreet silence.

The two men were walking down the little path which encircles the princ.i.p.al lawn of the Elysee Gardens, now almost deserted.

The colonel turned to his companion.

"What was that you were saying just now?... You had something fresh to tell me, and you had not.... That is the Norman way of putting it!...

Not like you, de Loubersac!"

"It is merely the answer of one who hesitates to speak out," replied de Loubersac, laughing, "... who hesitates to give a definite opinion, who, nevertheless."...

"Who nevertheless what?... De Loubersac, just forget I am your colonel--speak out, man!... Have you an idea of where the doc.u.ment was lost?"

"That?... No."...

"Then what conclusion have you arrived at? Have you further information about Brocq's death?"

"Hum!"...

"About Nichoune's death, perhaps?"

"Colonel! Have you noticed that for some time past I have not handed you any report from the agent Vagualame?"

"The deuce.... What do you imagine that means?"

"I do not imagine anything, Colonel--I state facts!... Nichoune is dead, murdered: there is not a shadow of a doubt about that....

Nichoune was the mistress of Corporal Vinson.... This Vinson was on the point of playing the traitor, if he had not already done so; he was also a friend of Captain Brocq, and Brocq died just when the doc.u.ment disappeared--the doc.u.ment confided to him by our service ...

so much for facts."

The colonel was staring fixedly at de Loubersac.

"I do not see what you are driving at!" said he.

"I am coming to it, Colonel.... Nichoune was found dead on Sat.u.r.day, November 19th, but on the evening of November 18th Nichoune received a visit from our agent, Vagualame, whom I had sent to Chalons by your own orders to occupy himself with the V. affair."

"Well?"