"Either he is what he seems, in which event a false move would be against
nature; or he is not, and knows one slip would mean his death."

"Still, I maintain you trust him too much."

"With what?"

"The freedom of your house, the opportunity to spy, to get to know who
comes to see you and when, to listen at doors."

"You have caught him listening at doors?"

"Not yet. But in time--"

"I think not. I don't think he has to."

"You mean," Sturm stammered, perturbed, "you think he knows--suspects?"

"I think he is one thing or the other: merely Nogam, or one of the greatest
of living actors. In either case he is flawless--thus far. But if not
merely Nogam, he will have a subtler means of eavesdropping than by
listening at doors."

"The dictograph?"

"Make your mind easy about that. This room is searched regularly by Shaik
Tsin. So is Nogam's. It is certain there is neither a dictograph installed
here nor any means at Nogam's disposal for connecting with a dictograph
installation. Indeed, so closely is Nogam watched, and by more cunning eyes
than mine--sometimes I begin to be afraid he is simply what he seems."

"Then you do suspect him!"

"My good Sturm, I suspect everybody."

Sturm pondered this before pressing his point again.

"Karslake found the fellow for you," he suggested at length.

"True."

"And Karslake--"

"Has been guilty of nothing more treacherous than falling in love with
Sofia."

"Your daughter, Excellency!"

"The young woman seems content to call herself that.... Can't say I blame
Karslake."

"But do you forgive him?"

"Ah, that is another matter. Mine is not a forgiving nature, Sturm--not
even toward excessive shrewdness."

Victor took up a docket of papers, and Sturm, mumbling an apology, gave
himself up to jealous brooding till he forgot the broad hint he had
received.

"If I can satisfy you that Nogam is untrustworthy--" he began, meaning to
continue: _Karslake will stand his proved accomplice_.

But Victor would not let him finish. "Nothing could please me more," he
interrupted. "Do so, by all means--if you can--and earn my everlasting
gratitude."

Sturm questioned him with puzzled eyes.

"I ask no greater service of any man," Victor elucidated with a smile that
made Sturm shiver, "than proof that Nogam is what I suspect him of being."
A hand extended upon the table unclosed and closed slowly, with fingers
tensed, like a murderous claw. "I want no greater favour of H