Let me think for a moment."

"You are naturally anxious," the Vicomte continued, "to see your
brother. Before very long, Mademoiselle, I trust that it may be my
pleasure to bring you together. But when I tell you that you are watched
continually in the hope that, through you, your brother's hiding-place
may be found, you will understand the wisdom which for the present keeps
you apart."

"I suppose so," she answered dubiously. "But now that his death is
reported?"

"Exactly, Mademoiselle. The affair has been arranged so that the search
for your brother will be abandoned and the espionage on you removed. If
the story of his doings in Paris, and the tragic sequel to them, be
believed by those whom we wish to believe it, then they will also assume
that his secret has died with him, and that their schemes move on
towards success. You understand?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte, I understand," she answered slowly. "What,
then, do you wish me to do?"

"Mademoiselle," the Vicomte answered, fixing his dark eyes impressively
upon her, "for you there remains the hardest of all tasks--inaction.
Believe me that when I came here, it was not my intention to put the
truth of the matter so plainly before you. Neither was it the will of
those whose orders I carry out. But I, Mademoiselle, before all things,
I believe in inspiration. I find in Mademoiselle"--he bowed once
more--"qualities which alter the situation. I--a judge of faces as I
venture to believe myself--have looked into yours, and many things have
happened."

She laughed delightfully. Her eyes were lit with humor.

"Ah, Monsieur!" she protested.

"With you, Mademoiselle," he continued, "reposes now a secret of great
importance to your country and mine. I ask for no pledge of discretion,
but I rely upon it. And, especially, Mademoiselle, may I warn you
against your friends?"

"I understand," she answered. "You wish me to share this confidence with
no one."

"With no one," the Vicomte repeated impressively. "Not even,
Mademoiselle, if I may venture to mention a name, with your very
persistent admirer, Sir George Duncombe, whom I saw here a few moments
since."

She sighed, and the Vicomte's face became one of pale anxiety.

"I have not been permitted to see him," she answered. "He was here a few
minutes ago."

"It is wiser so, Mademoiselle," the Vicomte said. "I wonder," he added,
"whether Mademoiselle will pardon the impertinence of a purely personal
question?"