For the greater safety, all present bound themselves upon honour not to reveal the result of their deliberations to certain named persons, and the Baron Giraud had the privilege of heading this list. I was surprised that no form of mutual faith was observed. These men seemed to trust each other without so much as a word--and indeed, what stronger tie can men have than the common gain? "We are not conspirators," said one to me. "Our movements are known." And he nodded his head in the direction of the Tuileries. I made no doubt that all, indeed, was known in that quarter, but the fatalist who planned and schemed there would meet these men the next day with his gentle smile, betraying nothing. As my interest became aroused by these proceedings, I became aware of the Vicomte's close scrutiny. It seemed that he was watching me--noting the effect of every speech and word. "You were interested," he said, casually, as we drove home smoking our cigars. "Yes." He looked out of the carriage window for some time, and then, turning, he laid his hand on my knee. "And it is not a game," he said, with his little laugh, which somehow sounded quite different--less senile, less helpless. "It is not a game, my friend!" Chapter IX Finance "Il n'est pas si dangereux de faire du mal a la plupart des hommes que de leur faire trop de bien." We have seen how the Baron Giraud was called suddenly away from those pleasures of the country, which he had taken up too late in life, as many do, to the busy--ay, and stormy--scenes of Paris existence during the winter before the great war. It was perhaps a week later--one morning, in fact, soon after the New Year--that my business bade me seek the Vicomte in his study adjoining my own. These two apartments, it will be remembered, were separated by two doors and a small intervening corridor. In the days when the Hotel Clericy was built, walls had ears, and every keyhole might conceal a watching eye. Builders understood the advantage of privacy, and did not construct rooms where every movement and every spoken word may be heard in the adjoining chambers. No sound had come to me, and I had no reason for supposing the Vicomte engaged at so early an hour. But as I entered the room, after knocking and awaiting his permission as usual, I saw that some one was leaving it by the other door. His back was presented to my sight, but there was no mistaking the slim form and a nonchalant carriage. Charles Miste again! And only the back of him once more. "I have had a visit from my late secretary," said the Vicomte, casually, and without looking up from his occupation of opening some letters. There was no reason to suppose that he had seen me glance towards the closing door, recognising him who went from it. We were still engaged with the morning's correspondence, when a second visitor was announced, and almost on the heels of the servant a little fat man came puffing into the room, red-faced and agitated.