"I was for a time a valet, but circumstances occurred--monsieur may observe that I am frank. Later I was on the police force, but after two years I fell ill and lost my place. When I was well again, I was taken on as an observer. Monsieur permits me to describe it as an observer?" "A spy?" I said. "I cannot contradict monsieur. I speak English--I learned it when I was valet for Mr. Parker in London. That is why I am sent here. The pay is of a minuteness. Circumstances make some addition desirable." I perceived that circumstances appeared to play a large part in this queer autobiography, and saved the necessity of undesirable fullness of statement. I said: "You appear to be frank, but are you to belong to me or to the police? In your studies for the priesthood you may have heard that a man cannot serve two masters." His face became of a sudden what I venture to call luminous with the pleasure an intelligent man has in finding an answer to a difficult question. He replied modestly: "A man has many masters. One of mine has used me badly. I became ill from exposure in the service, but they refused to take me back. If monsieur will trust me, there shall be but one real master." The man interested me. I said: "If I engage you, you will, I suppose, desire to remain what you call an observer." "Yes. Monsieur may be sure that either I or another will observe. Since the unfortunate war in America, monsieur and all others of his legation are watched." "And generally every one else," I said. "Perhaps you, too, are observed." "Possibly. Monsieur may perceive that it is better I continue in the pay of the police. It is hardly more than a _pourboire_, but it is desirable. I have an old mother at Neuilly." I had my doubts in regard to the existence of the mother--but it was true, as I learned later. "It seems to me," I said, "that you will have to report your observations." "Yes; I cannot avoid that. Monsieur may feel assured that I shall communicate very important information to my lesser master,"--he grinned,--"in fact, whatever monsieur pleases. If I follow and report at times to the police where monsieur visits, I may be trusted to be at need entirely untrustworthy and prudent. I do not smoke. Monsieur's cigars are safe. If monsieur has absinthe about, I might--monsieur permits me to be suggestive." The man's gaiety, his intelligence, and his audacious frankness took my fancy. I said: "There is nothing in my life, my man, which is not free for all to know. I shall soon learn whether or not I may trust you. If you are faithful you shall be rewarded. That is all." As I spoke his pleasant face became grave.