A Maker of History Part 45

"I wish to do you justice," Andrew answered coldly, "and I am willing to believe that you have faith yourself in the extraordinary story you have just told us. But frankly I think that you have been too credulous."

Duncombe lost his temper. He turned on his heel, and walked back into the hotel.

"You can go to the devil your own way!" he declared.

CHAPTER VII

SPENCER GETS HIS CHANCE

Spencer tried to rise from the sofa, but the effort was too much for him. Pale and thin, with black lines under his eyes, and bloodless lips, he seemed scarcely more than the wreck of his former self.

His visitor laid his stick and hat upon the table. Then he bowed once more to Spencer, and stood looking at him, leaning slightly against the table.

"I am permitted," he asked gently, "to introduce myself?"

"Quite unnecessary!" Spencer answered.

The Baron shrugged his shoulders.

"You know me?" he asked.

The shadow of a smile flitted across Spencer's face.

"By many names, Monsieur Louis," he answered.

His visitor smiled. Debonair in dress and deportment, there seemed nothing to inspire alarm in the air of gentle concern with which he regarded the man whom he had come to visit. Yet Spencer cursed the languor which had kept him from recovering the revolver which an hour or more before had slipped from underneath his cushion.

"It saves trouble," Monsieur Louis said. "I come to you. Monsieur Spencer, as a friend."

"You alarm me," Spencer murmured.

Monsieur Louis shrugged his shoulders.

"You are pleased to be witty," he answered. "But indeed I am no such terrible person. It is permitted that I smoke?"

"Certainly," Spencer answered. "If you care for wine or liqueurs pray ring for my servant. I can a.s.sure you that it is not by my own will that you find me so indifferent a host."

"I thank you," Monsieur Louis answered. "I think that we will not ring the bell. It would be a pity to disturb an interview to which I have looked forward with so much pleasure."

"_L'affaire Poynton?_" Spencer suggested.

"Precisely!"

"You have perhaps come to complete the little affair in which so far you have succeeded so admirably?"

"Pray do not suggest such a thing," Monsieur Louis answered deprecatingly. "For one thing I should not personally run the risk. And for another have I not already a.s.sured you that I come as a friend?"

"It was then," Spencer answered, "that I began to be frightened."

Monsieur Louis smiled. He drew a gold cigarette case from his pocket, and calmly lit a cigarette.

"Since you permit, _mon ami_," he said. "Good! I speak better when I smoke. You are not so ill, I see, but that you retain that charming sense of humor your readers have learnt so well how to appreciate."

"The dose was scarcely strong enough," Spencer answered. "Or perhaps by good fortune I stumbled upon the proper antidote."

"I see that you like plain speaking," Monsieur Louis continued with a gentle smile. "Permit me to a.s.sure you then that the dose was quite as strong as we wished. Extremes are sometimes necessary, but we avoid them whenever possible."

"I wonder where it happened," Spencer said reflectively. "I have been on my guard all the time. I have watched my wine and coffee at the cafes, and I have eaten only in the restaurants that I know."

Monsieur Louis did not seem to think the matter important.

"It was bound to happen," he said. "If you had been like your friends--the English baronet and the last two, who are even more amusing--perhaps it would not have been necessary. But you understand--you were beginning to discover things."

"Yes," Spencer admitted. "I was beginning to get interested."

"Exactly! We were forced to act. I can a.s.sure you, Monsieur Spencer, that it was with reluctance. The others of whom I have spoken--Sir George Duncombe, Monsieur Pelham, and his toy detective--forgive me that I smile--walk all the time in the palm of our hand. But they remain unharmed. If by any chance they should blunder into the knowledge of things which might cause us annoyance, why, then--there would be more invalids in Paris. Indeed, Monsieur, we do not seek to abuse our power.

My errand to you to-day is one of mercy."

"You make me ashamed," Spencer said, with a sarcasm which he took no pains to conceal, "of my unworthy suspicions. To proceed."

"You have sent for Sir George Duncombe to come and see you!"

Spencer was silent for a moment. His own servant unfaithful? It was not possible.

"Well?"

"Even you," the Baron continued, "have not yet solved the mystery of _l'affaire Poynton_. But you know more than Sir George. Let me recommend that you do not share your knowledge with him."

"Why not?"

"If you do Sir George will at once share your indisposition."

"I begin to understand," Spencer said.

"How otherwise? Send Sir George home. You see the delicacy of our position. It is not so much that we fear Sir George Duncombe's interference, but he again is followed and watched over by our enemies, who would easily possess themselves of any information which he might gain."

Spencer nodded.

"It is good reasoning," he admitted.

"Listen," Monsieur Louis continued. "I speak now on behalf of my friends. You know whom I mean. You have solved the mystery of our existence. We are omnipotent. The police and the secret service police and the Government itself are with us. We have license throughout the city. We may do what others may not. For us there is no crime. I kill you now perhaps. The police arrive. I am before the Commissioner. I give him the sign--it is _l'affaire Poynton_. I go free! It is a certain thing."

"Granted!" Spencer said. "Proceed with your killing, or your argument."

"With the latter, if you please," Monsieur Louis answered. "I do not choose to kill. _L'affaire Poynton_, then. Harm is not meant to either of these young people. That I a.s.sure you upon my honor. In three weeks, or say a month, we have finished. They may return to their homes if they will. We have no further interest in them. For those three weeks you must remain as you are--you, and if you have influence over him, Sir George Duncombe. The other two fools we have no care for. If they blundered into knowledge--well, they must pay. They are not our concern, yours and mine. For you, I bring you an offer, Monsieur Spencer."