‘I have not asked you for assurances, monsieur. If I have chosen you in preference to any of my friends, even men of the highest honour, like M. des Saintes Roches, depend upon it I know what I am about. Do not interrupt me, but listen. In my safe at this moment I have notes and securities to the value of two hundred millions of francs.’ Two hundred millions! That is to say, in English money, £8,000,000! I stared at her in amazement--almost in disbelief. She went on speaking with the most perfect composure, as if nothing out of the ordinary were being discussed. It was this self-command, this air of the commonplace with which she invested the most fantastic statements, which constituted the secret of her power. ‘This sum, which originally amounted to only one hundred and twenty millions, does not belong to me. It is a sacred deposit, intrusted to me many years ago, since which time the interest has steadily accumulated.’ ‘But, then, whose----?’ I tried to put in. But Madame Humbert would not permit me to speak. ‘It is useless to question me, monsieur. Think what you like concerning the true ownership of this money, but do not expect me to enlighten you. All that it is necessary for you to know is that these millions constitute a war fund, to be employed in a certain event, and on behalf of a cause which I was brought up to hold dearer than life.’ ‘A war fund!’ I could not resist exclaiming. My companion ignored the interruption. ‘From which it follows that the whole sum must always be available, at an hour’s notice, in the hands of a trusty agent. Hitherto I have been that agent; but I have met with misfortunes, and a danger has arisen that this sum may fall into the hands of my private creditors.’ She paused for a moment, and then added, in a less firm tone-- ‘The custody of this vast sum has been my ruin. In order to use it to advantage I was obliged to invent all sorts of fables to account for its being in my possession. People insisted on treating me as a rich woman, they forced loans upon me; I considered it permissible to borrow money on the security of this fortune of which I was merely the guardian; I managed my own affairs badly--in short I am insolvent, and shall shortly be obliged to go into hiding. My creditors have asked the Courts for an order to open the safe which contains the millions, and unless they are removed in time I shall have incurred the vengeance of those whose cause I have betrayed.’ She shuddered. Thérèse Humbert, the strong-minded, imperturbable woman who had witnessed suicides committed on her account, trembled as she referred to this vengeance, which was so much more terrible to her than any penalties in the power of the French Courts to impose. ‘In a word, Monsieur V----,’ she resumed, throwing off her momentary weakness, ‘you must relieve me of the custody of this treasure.’