e
Countess is handsome. But I am bound to admit that his description of
the Count by no means tallies with the appearance of the gentleman who
talked with you last night."

"Who talked with me! You were--?"

"I was there--behind a bush a little way down the hill."

"Upon my word, sir--"

"Oh, I had my business too. But for the moment listen to something
that concerns you. The Count is not yet thirty, his eyes are large and
dreamy, his hair long, he wears no moustache, his manner is melancholy,
there is no air of bravado about him. Do I occasion you surprise?"

Paul de Roustache swore heartily.

"Then," he ended, "all I can say is that I should like ten minutes
alone with the fellow who made a fool of me last night, whoever he is."

Again Guillaume--as he wished to be called--touched his companion's arm.

"I too have a matter to discuss with that gentleman," he said. Paul
looked surprised. "M. de Roustache," Guillaume continued with an
insinuating smile, "is not ignorant of recent events; he moves in the
world of affairs. I think we might help one another. And there is no
harm in being popular with the--with--er--my department, instead of
being--well, rather unpopular, eh, my dear M. de Roustache?"

Paul did not contest this insinuation nor show any indignation at it;
the wink which accompanied it he had the self-respect to ignore.

"What do you want from him?" he asked, discerning Guillaume's point,
and making straight for it.

"Merely some papers he has."

"What do you want the papers for?"

"To enable us to know whom we ought to watch."

"Is the affair political or--?"

"Oh, political--not in your line." Paul frowned. "Forgive my little
joke," apologised M. Guillaume.

"And he 's got them?"

"Oh, yes--at least, we have very little doubt of it."

"Perhaps he 's destroyed them."

Guillaume laughed softly. "Ah, my dear sir," said he, "he would n't do
that. While he keeps them he is safe, he is important, he might
become--well, richer than he is."

Paul shot a quick glance at his companion.

"How do you mean to get the papers?"

"I 'm instructed to buy. But if he 's honest, he won't sell. Still I
must have them."

"Tell me his name."

"Oh, by all means--Captain Dieppe."

"Ah, I 've heard of him. He was in Brazil, was n't he?"

"Yes, and in Bulgaria."

"Spain too, I fancy?"

"Dear me, I was n't aware of that," said Guillaume, with some vexation.
"But it's neither here n