"I want you to credit my statements," he said emphatically. "This
proposal is quite straightforward. My principal is prepared to pay half
the money down before the lady leaves Paris, and the balance when the
picture is delivered. Further, he will bear the expenses of any one who
accompanies her,--a relative, or a friend, such as yourself, for
instance. I don't figure in the matter at all. I am a mere go-between,
and if you think otherwise you are utterly mistaken."

Felix began to whistle softly between his teeth, and the action annoyed
Julius so greatly that he decided to try a new line.

"I seem to have amused you by my sincerity, monsieur!" he snapped. "Pray
forget that I have troubled you----"

"But why, my paragon? _Que diable!_ one does not spurn five thousand
francs like that! I hum or whistle when I am thinking, and just now I am
wondering how this business can be arranged. Who is your client?"

"Who is yours?" retorted Julius.

"She exists, at any rate."

"So does the other."

"Well, then, let us meet to-morrow----"

"But time is all important."

"There can't be such a mortal hurry, seeing that Saint Peter has hung so
long undisturbed in Delgratz," said Felix dryly. "Moreover, it will
clear the air if I tell you that the lady is not in Paris, so I cannot
possibly give you her answer before to-morrow morning."

"How can I be sure that she is the person actually intended for this
commission?"

"There won't be the least doubt about it when King Alexis III. sets eyes
on her."

Julius was certainly not himself that day. His pink face grew crimson
with amazement. "If you tell her that you will defeat my friend's object
in sending her to Delgratz!" he blurted out.

"Eh, what are you saying? What, then, becomes of that poor Saint Peter?"

"Exactly. She is going there to copy it, not to philander with Alec."

Poluski screwed his eyes up until he was peering at Julius's excited
features as if endeavoring to catch some transient color effect.
"Frankly, you puzzle me," he said after a pause; "but come again
to-morrow. And no tricks, no spying or that sort of thing! I am the
wrong man for it. If you doubt me, ask some one who has heard of Felix
Poluski. You see, Count Julius Marulitch, I am far more open than you. I
knew you all the time, and as to your motives, I can guess a good deal
that I don't actually know. Still, there is nothing positively dishonest
about a Byzantine Saint Peter. It is not art, bu