but
this served rather to accentuate the youthfulness of the face, covered
now by a coat of tan which bespoke a summer spent in the open. In any
company, this man would have been notable.

"M. Crochard, I believe," said Delcasse, and involuntarily the great
Minister arose and returned his visitor's bow. "Be seated, sir."

"Thank you," said Crochard, and sat down. "I see that we are going to
appreciate each other," he added, and looked at Delcasse with a friendly
smile.

That gentleman's eyes were twinkling behind his glasses, and his lips
twitched under his heavy moustache.

"It always pleases me to meet a distinguished man," he said, "in
whatever field of endeavour. M. Lepine tells me that you are most
distinguished."

"M. Lepine has every reason to know," agreed Crochard, and glanced
smilingly toward the Prefect.

"Though, since I have eyes, I can see that for myself," added the
Minister. "Why did you wish to see me?"

"I wished to see you, sir," answered Crochard, suddenly serious,
"because I have long recognised in you the only man whom France
possesses who sees clearly the struggle which is ahead of her, who
prepares ceaselessly for that struggle, and who is strong enough to
guide her through it triumphantly."

"To what struggle do you refer?" inquired the Minister, but his shining
eyes belied his careless tone.

"The struggle to regain possession of Alsace-Lorraine and to avenge
ourselves upon the nation which once humiliated us."

A slow flush crept into Delcasse's cheeks, and his lips tightened.

"You foresee such a struggle?" he asked.

"As clearly as you do yourself, sir."

"Well, yes!" cried Delcasse, and smote the arm of his chair a heavy
blow. "I _do_ foresee such a struggle--I have never denied it; and for
twenty years I have laboured to prepare for it. You can understand,
then, what a blow it is to me--how terrible, how disheartening--to have
all my calculations blasted by such accidents as that of to-day!"

"Pardon me, sir," said Crochard, in a low tone, "but the destruction of
_La Liberte_ was not an accident!"

"You assert that?"

"I do. And furthermore I assert that it was the work of Germany!"

Delcasse sprang from his chair, his face livid.

"The proof!" he cried. "The proof!"

"The proof, sir, is this: at five minutes before dawn, this morning, two
strangers, attired as pedestrians, with knapsacks on their backs,
stopped in the recess of the doorway of Number Ten, Quai de C