Mr. Sabin laughed scornfully, nevertheless he did not seem to be altogether at his ease. The little scene in the library at Deringham Hall was not a pleasant recollection for him. "The matter after all," he said coldly, "is unimportant; it is merely a detail. I will admit that you have done your spy's work well. Now, what will buy your memory, and your departure from this train, at the next station?" Felix smiled. "You are becoming more sensible," he said; "it is a very fair question to ask. My price is the faithful fulfilment of your contract with my chief." "I have made no contract with him." "You have opened negotiations; he is ready to come to terms with you. You have only to name your price." "I have no price," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "that he could pay." "What Knigenstein can give," Felix said, "he can give double. The Secret Service funds of Russia are the largest in the world; you can have practically a blank cheque upon them." "I repeat," Mr. Sabin said, "I have no price that Prince Lobenski could pay. You talk as though I were a blackmailer, or a common thief. You have always misunderstood me. Come! I will remember that the cards are upon the table; I will be wholly frank with you. It is Knigenstein with whom I mean to treat, and not your chief. He has agreed to my terms--Russia never could." Felix was silent for a moment. "You are holding," he said, "your trump card in your hand. Whatever in this world Germany could give you, Russia could improve upon." "She could do so," Mr. Sabin said, "only at the expense of her honour. Come! here is that trump card. I will throw it upon the table; now you see that my hands are empty. My price is the invasion of France, and the restoration of the Monarchy." Felix looked at him as a man looks upon a lunatic. "You are playing with me," he cried. "I was never more in earnest in my life," Mr. Sabin said. "Do you mean to tell me that you--in cold blood--are working for so visionary, so impossible an end?" "It is neither visionary," Mr. Sabin said, "nor impossible. I do not believe that any man, save myself, properly appreciates the strength of the Royalist party in France. Every day, every minute brings it fresh adherents. It is as certain that some day a king will reign once more at Versailles, as that the sun will set before many hours are past. The French people are too bourgeois at heart to love a republic. The desire for its abolition is growing up in their hearts day by day. You understand me now when I say that I cannot treat with your country? The honour of Russia is bound up with her friendship to France. Germany, on the other hand, has ready her battle cry. She and France have been quivering on the verge of war for many a year. My whole hand is upon the table now, Felix. Look at the cards, and tell me whether we can treat!"