'No, not the least in the world; but somehow my wife began to have a
kind of idea of her own that all was not right. Do you know, Hamilton,
the intuitions of that woman are something marvellous--marvellous, sir!
Her perceptions are something outside herself, something transcendental,
sir. So I telegraphed to my friend Clinton, and here we are, don't you
see?'

'Yes, I see,' Hamilton said, his attention wandering a little from the
transcendental perceptions of Mrs. Sarrasin. 'Why, I wonder, did this
fellow, whoever he is, take the name of a real man?'

'Oh, don't you see? Why, that's plain enough. How else could he ever
have got introductions--introductions that would satisfy anybody? You
see the folk-lore dodge commended itself to my poor simple brother, who
knew the name and reputation of the real Professor Flick, and naturally
thought it was all right. Then there seemed no immediate connection
between my brother and the Dictator; and finally, the real Professor
Flick was in China, and would not be likely to hear about what was going
on until these chaps had done the trick; whereas, if anyone in the
States not in constant communication with the real Flick heard of his
being in London it would seem all right enough--they would assume that
he had taken London first, and not last. I must say, Hamilton, it was a
very pretty plot, and it was devilish near being made a success.'

'We'll foil it now,' Hamilton said, with his teeth clenched.

'Oh, of course we'll foil it now,' Sarrasin said carelessly. 'We should
be pretty simpletons if we couldn't foil the plot now that we have the
threads in our hands.'

'What do you make of it--murder?' Hamilton lowered his voice and almost
shuddered at his own suggestion.

'Murder, of course--the murder of the Dictator, and of everyone who
comes in the way of _that_ murder. If the Dictator gets to Gloria the
game of the ruffians is up--that we know by our advices--and if he is
murdered in England he certainly can't get to Gloria. There you are!'

Nobody, however jealous for the Dictator, could doubt the sympathy and
devotion of Captain Sarrasin to the Dictator and his cause. Yet his cool
and business-like way of discussing the question grated on Hamilton's
ears. Hamilton, perhaps, did not make quite enough of allowance for a
man who had been in so many enterprises as Captain Sarrasin, and who had
got into the way of thinking that his own life and the life of every
other such man