"Oh, I had my business too. But for the moment listen to something that concerns you. The Count is not yet thirty, his eyes are large and dreamy, his hair long, he wears no moustache, his manner is melancholy, there is no air of bravado about him. Do I occasion you surprise?"

Paul de Roustache swore heartily.

"Then," he ended, "all I can say is that I should like ten minutes alone with the fellow who made a fool of me last night, whoever he is."

Again Guillaume--as he wished to be called--touched his companion's arm.

"I too have a matter to discuss with that gentleman," he said. Paul looked surprised. "M. de Roustache," Guillaume continued with an insinuating smile, "is not ignorant of recent events; he moves in the world of affairs. I think we might help one another. And there is no harm in being popular with the--with--er--my department, instead of being--well, rather unpopular, eh, my dear M. de Roustache?"

Paul did not contest this insinuation nor show any indignation at it; the wink which accompanied it he had the self-respect to ignore.

"What do you want from him?" he asked, discerning Guillaume's point, and making straight for it.

"Merely some papers he has."

"What do you want the papers for?"

"To enable us to know whom we ought to watch."

"Is the affair political or--?"

"Oh, political--not in your line." Paul frowned. "Forgive my little joke," apologised M. Guillaume.

"And he 's got them?"

"Oh, yes--at least, we have very little doubt of it."

"Perhaps he 's destroyed them."

Guillaume laughed softly. "Ah, my dear sir," said he, "he would n't do that. While he keeps them he is safe, he is important, he might become--well, richer than he is."

Paul shot a quick glance at his companion.

"How do you mean to get the papers?"

"I 'm instructed to buy. But if he 's honest, he won't sell. Still I must have them."

"Tell me his name."

"Oh, by all means--Captain Dieppe."

"Ah, I 've heard of him. He was in Brazil, was n't he?"

"Yes, and in Bulgaria."

"Spain too, I fancy?"

"Dear me, I was n't aware of that," said Guillaume, with some vexation.

"But it's neither here nor there. Can I count on your a.s.sistance?"

"But what the devil does he pretend to be the Count for?"

"Forgive the supposition, but perhaps he imagined that your business was what mine is. Then he would like to throw you off the scent by concealing his ident.i.ty."

"By heaven, and I nearly--!"

"Nearly did what, dear M. de Roustache?" said old Guillaume very softly. "Nearly dragged in the name of Madame la Comtesse, were you going to say?"

"How do you know anything--?" began Paul.

"A guess--on my honour a guess! You affect the ladies, eh? Oh, we 're not such strangers as you think." He spoke in a more imperious tone: it was almost threatening. "I think you must help me, Monsieur Paul,"

said he.

His familiarity, which was certainly no accident, pointed more precisely the vague menace of his demand.

But Paul was not too easily frightened.

"All right," said he, "but I must get something out of it, you know."

"On the day I get the papers--by whatever means--you shall receive ten thousand francs. And I will not interfere with your business. Come, my proposal is handsome, you must allow."

"Well, tell me what to do."

"You shall write a note, addressed to the Count, telling him you must see him on a matter which deeply touches his interest and his honour."

"How much do you know?" Paul broke in suspiciously.

"I knew nothing till last night; now I am beginning to know. But listen. The innkeeper is my friend; he will manage that this note shall be delivered--not to the Count, but to Dieppe; if any question arises, he 'll say you described the gentleman beyond mistake, and in the note you will refer to last night's interview. He won't suspect that I have undeceived you. Well then, in the note you will make a rendezvous with him. He will come, either for fun or because he thinks he can serve his friend--the Count or the Countess, whichever it may be. If I don't offend your susceptibilities, I should say it was the Countess. Oh, I am judging only by general probability."

"Supposing he comes--what then?"

"Why, when he comes, I shall be there--visible. And you will be there invisible--unless cause arises for you also to become visible. But the details can be settled later. Come, will you write the letter?"

Paul de Roustache thought a moment, nodded, rose, and was about to follow Guillaume into the inn. But he stopped again and laid a hand on his new friend's shoulder.

"If your innkeeper is so intelligent and so faithful--"

"The first comes from heaven," shrugged Guillaume. "The second is, all the world over, a matter of money, my friend."

"Of course. Well then, he might take another note."

"To the other Count?"

"Why, no."

"Not yet, eh?"

Paul forced a rather wry smile. "You have experience, Monsieur Guillaume," he confessed.