Ronsard's mouth watered, but his brain grew firm. "Wonderful! Past belief!" he said. "But tell me how did Monsieur--obtain possession?" He was measuring the depth of Pierre's insanity, gazing desperately for signs of returning judgment. "Is it safe for _me_?" he continued quietly. "Good God, man!" cried Pierre. "Here I win you, with my life, perhaps, the very key to this war--to history for all time--and you prate about safety! Is war safe? Is anything safe?" Ronsard's voice came low and stinging. "Tell me! Where--and how--did you get it?" Pierre was too over-wrought to lie, even had he dared. He swaggered. He stretched forth a hand and snatched the paper defiantly. "I took it--yes, from the body of Prince Hagané! Glorious, wasn't it? Mon Dieu! Think of it! In his official residence!" "It means the Cross of the Legion of Honor," said Mouquin, weakly, against the door. "Hagané!" Ronsard had exclaimed in spite of himself. He knew it meant the utmost of something, but which--glory or dishonor? Either was incredible. "Yes, yes, Pierre," he said soothingly, as to a child; "Hagané's body--I understand. But why--didn't--Hagané stop you?" "Why? It is droll--he could not! He was tied, tangled. His feet were tangled--yes, tightly entangled! He was too busy with that to follow." Pierre's laugh turned Ronsard sick. "What or _who_ entangled him, Pierre?" "You keep her name out of this, damn you!" Ronsard's pendent underlip went gray to the root. "Then she will die, too." He breathed it to himself. Whether Pierre heard or not, his tense attitude relaxed. He cowered back in his chair. Mouquin, thinking he had fainted, ran forward. "No! No more absinthe! No medicine! Coffee! For God's sake, coffee! That may keep me up." A new thought flashed to Ronsard. "Mouquin! Ring, and yourself receive the coffee--just outside the door." His words rang quick and clear. "We must think, now, like gods or demons for swiftness," he went on to Pierre. "Hagané will be with us at once! How did you keep ahead? You must deny, _deny_! Don't you see, it compromises France?" Pierre raised his eyes sleepily. "Hagané--come? No, Excellency! he did not see--" "Madame will tell him, fool." "Never! She will die first." "Ah, allow me, then, to congratulate you," Ronsard permitted himself to sneer. Then swiftly, "You have been seen! The servants! The police--" "Your Excellency," chattered Mouquin, darting a ghastly face through the door, "Prince Hagané is announced. He is coming down the hall--he is _here_!" "I thought I heard footsteps. Hold him, just a moment." Ronsard rose to his feet. With a low whisper that stung with the lash of a knout he bent to Pierre. "Stand, you fool! And if you have never known what it is to be a man, try the feeling now! Hide the paper in your breast. There! Smile, though your face crack!"