Ansell, in addition, had a second source of revenue, inasmuch as he was on friendly terms with a certain Belgian Baron, who, though living in affluence in Paris, was nevertheless a high official of the German Secret Service. It was, indeed, his habit to undertake for the Baron certain disagreeable little duties which he did not care to perform himself, and for such services he was usually highly paid. Hence, when he fled to London, it was not long before a German secret agent called upon him and put before him a certain proposal, the acceptance of which had resulted in the death of Dick Harborne. The young adventurer threw himself into the arm-chair opposite to where Adolphe Carlier was seated, and in the twilight unfolded his scheme for a _coup_ at a well-known jeweller's in Bond Street, at which he was already a customer and had thoroughly surveyed the premises. "I expected that you had some new scheme in hand," Carlier said at last, in French, after listening attentively to the details of the proposition, every one of which had been most carefully thought out by the pupil of the notorious Bonnemain. "On arrival this afternoon I put up at the Charing Cross Hotel--so as to be handy if we have to get out quickly." "Good. Probably we shall be compelled to move pretty slick," Ansell said, in English. Then, after a few moments' pause, he added: "Do you know, my dear Adolphe, I have some news for you." "News?" "Yes. I'm going to be married in November." "Married!" echoed Carlier, staring at his friend. "Who's the lucky girl?" "She's French; lives here in London; smart, sweet--a perfect peach," was his answer. "She'll be a lot of use to us in future." Carlier was silent for a few moments. "Does she know anything?" he asked in a low, serious voice. "Nothing." "What will she say when she knows?" "What can she say?" asked Ansell, with a grin. "She's not one of us, I suppose?" "One of us? Why, no, my dear fellow. I'll introduce you to-morrow. You must dine with us--dine before we go out and do the job. But she must not suspect anything--you understand?" "Of course," replied the young Frenchman. "I'll be delighted to meet her, Ralph, but--but I'm thinking it is rather dangerous for you to marry an honourable girl." "What?" cried the other, angry in an instant. "Do you insinuate that I'm not worthy to have a decent, well-brought-up girl for a wife?" "Ah! you misunderstand me, _mon vieux_. I insinuate nothing," replied Carlier. "I scent danger, that is all. She may turn from you when--well--when she knows what we really are." Ansell's mouth hardened. "When she knows she'll have to grin and bear it," was the answer. "She might give us away." "No, she won't do that, I can assure you. The little fool loves me too well." "Is that the way you speak of her?" "Every girl who loves a man blindly is, in my estimation, a fool."