ll things by their right names? You would like to
employ me as a spy--is that what you mean?"

"Well, if you like to put it so, yes. I suppose I can count upon you?"

"I am sorry not to be able to oblige you, but I am afraid I must say
no."

"You are growing squeamish, Cyprienne, in your old age. To think of
your having scruples!"

"I despise your sneers. It does not suit me to do what you wish,
that's all; it would be unsafe."

"What have you to lose?"

"All this." She waved her hand round the prettily-furnished room.
"Lord Essendine has been very kind to me, and if there were any
suspicions--if any rumour got about that I was employed by or for
you--he would certainly withdraw the income he gives me."

Mr. Hobson laughed quietly.

"You have given yourself away, as they say in America; you have put
yourself in my hands, Cyprienne. I insist now upon your doing what I
wish."

"You shall not browbeat me!" She rose from her seat, with indignation
in her face. "Leave me, or I will call the servants."

"I shall go straight to Lord Essendine, then, and tell him all I know.
How would you like that? How about your allowance, and the protection
of that great family? Don't you know, foolish woman, that you are
absolutely and completely in my power?"

Mrs. Wilders made no reply. Her face was a study; many emotions
struggled for mastery--fear, sullen obstinacy, and impotent rage.

"Come, be more reasonable," went on Mr. Hobson, "Our partnership is of
long standing; it cannot easily be dissolved; certainly not now. After
all, what is it I ask you? A few questions put adroitly to the right
person, an occasional visit to some official friend; to keep your eyes
and ears open, and be always on the watch. Surely, there is no great
trouble, no danger, in that?"

"If you will have it so, I suppose I must agree. But where and how am
I to begin?"

"I leave it all to you, my dear madam; you are much more at home in
this great town than I am. I can only indicate the lines on which you
should proceed."

"How shall I communicate with you?"

"Only by word of mouth. When you have anything to say, write to
me--there is my address"--he pointed to his card--"Duke Street, St.
James's. Write just three lines, asking me to lunch, nothing more; I
shall understand."

"And about this hated McKay?"

"Let me know when he returns to the Crimea. We shall be able to hit
upon a plan then. But it will require some thought, and a reckless,