"No, I do not mean that. I cannot say, like you, Monsieur, that I am a plain blunt man, but I think with small effort you will understand my meaning. I put myself in your place. Suppose, I tell myself, a neighbour of mine, whom I had found useful, had in the course of some enterprise on my behalf been so unlucky as to come into the grip of the law; naturally I should feel deeply concerned in his fate, and certainly I should do all in my power to save him, especially if I knew that the said enterprise was one that the law would look unkindly on. Such would be my sentiments, Monsieur, and I do not suppose myself different from other men." "The case is so well put, Monsieur, that it would seem to fit your situation to a nicety." "Appearances are then deceitful, Monsieur. Strange to say, I had the same thought with regard to you. Your friend the captain is not a hero, certainly not a martyr, and even though a few vindictive words at the last would not save his neck, yet to a man of his disposition it would sweeten his end to know that another shared his fate." Mr. Berkeley had been growing visibly restive. How much did this suavely malicious Frenchman know? He dared not question him plainly. "You speak, Monsieur, of a few vindictive words. It is clear to me that Aglionby has threatened you——" "And I care not a jot for his threats," interrupted Polignac. "As you are aware, I am about to depart for Paris; eh bien! Monsieur le Capitaine’s threats will not reach me there." "But if I save him, Monsieur?" Polignac’s mouth twitched. "He is a vengeful man," pursued the squire. "I should have no object in concealing from him your notions of the obligations of friendship; and since it appears that you, on your side, permit yourself to talk of an ’enterprise’ and ’the grip of the law’, does it not occur to you that the captain, and I myself as his friend, might make things—well, very unpleasant for you? And remember, you are not in Paris yet." There was a moment’s silence, taking advantage of which Mr. Berkeley leant forward and, tapping Polignac’s knee, added: "Come, Monsieur, let us understand one another. It is to my interest that Captain Aglionby should not die—by the hangman; it is to your interest—correct me if I am wrong—that he should not live, or you will find this country shut to you. Our interests appear to clash; but is it not possible—I throw out the suggestion—to reconcile them—to gain both our ends?" Polignac smiled. "Let us talk as friends, Monsieur," he said. An hour passed before Mr. Berkeley left the house. It was still raining, but his gloomy expression had given place to one of fierce satisfaction. Polignac bade him a cordial adieu at the door, and as soon as he was gone called his servant. "Antoine," he said, "unsaddle my horse. I do not ride to-day."