“And how are matters in Paris?”

“They are working hard, but it’s an uphill pull.  The old man is a crafty old bird.  Those papers you got from the safe had been cunningly prepared for anybody who sought to obtain information.  The consequence is that we’ve shown our hand, and heavily handicapped ourselves thereby.”

“You told me all that when you were down here a month ago,” Flockart said impatiently.

“You didn’t believe me then.  You do now, I suppose?”

“I’ve never denied it,” Flockart declared, offering the stranger a Russian cigarette from his gold case.  “I was completely misled, and by the girl also.”

“The girl’s influence with her father is happily quite at an end,” remarked the shabby man.  “I saw her last week in Woodnewton.  The change from Glencardine to an eight-roomed cottage in a village street must be rather severe.”

“Only what she deserves,” snapped Flockart.  “She defied us.”

“Granted.  But I cannot help thinking that we haven’t played a very fair game,” said the man.  “Remember, she’s only a girl.”

“But dangerous to us and to our plans, my dear Krail.  She knows a lot.”

“Because—­well, forgive me for saying so, my dear Flockart—­because you’ve been a fool, and have allowed her to know.”

“It wasn’t I; it was the woman.”

“Lady Heyburn!  Why, I always believed her to be the soul of discretion.”

“She’s been too defiant of consequences.  A dozen times I’ve warned her; but she will not heed.”

“Then she’ll land herself in a deep hole if she isn’t careful,” replied the foreigner, speaking very fair English.  “Does she know I’m here?”

“Of course not.  If we’re to play the game she must know nothing.  She’s already inclined to throw prudence to the winds, and to confess all to her husband.”

“Confess!” gasped the stranger, paling beneath his rather sallow skin. “Per Bacco! she’s not going to be such an idiot, surely?”

“We were run so close, and so narrowly escaped discovery after I got at those papers at Glencardine, that she seems to have lost heart,” Flockart remarked.

“But if she acted the fool and told Sir Henry, it would mean ruin for us, and that would also mean——­”

“It would mean exposure for Gabrielle,” interrupted Flockart.  “The old man dare not lift his voice for his daughter’s sake.”

“Ah,” exclaimed Krail, “that’s just where you’ve acted injudiciously!  You’ve set him against her; therefore he wouldn’t spare her.”

“It was imperative.  I couldn’t afford to be found prying into the old man’s papers, could I?  I got impressions of his key while walking in the park one day.  He’s never suspected it.”

“Of course not.  He believes in you,” laughed his friend, “as one of the few upright men who are his friends!  But,” he added, “you’ve done wrong, my dear fellow, to trust a woman with a secret.  Depend upon it, her ladyship will let you down.”