“I am not keen on the business,” I said with calm dignity, “so if you think that I am asking too much—­there are others, no doubt, who would do the work for less.”

It was a bold move.  But it succeeded.  Leroux laughed and shrugged his shoulders.  Then he counted out ten hundred-franc notes and laid them out upon the desk.  But before I could touch them he laid his large bony hands over the lot and, looking me straight between the eyes, he said with earnest significance: 

“English files are worth as much as twenty francs apiece in the market.”

“I know.”

“Fournier Freres would not take the risks which they are doing for a consignment of less than ten thousand.”

“I doubt if they would,” I rejoined blandly.

“It will be your business to find out how and when the smugglers propose to get their next consignment over the frontier.”

“Exactly.”

“And to communicate any information you may have obtained to me.”

“And to keep an eye on the valuable cargo, of course?” I concluded.

“Yes,” he said roughly, “an eye.  But hands off, understand, my good Ratichon, or there’ll be trouble.”

He did not wait to hear my indignant protest.  He had risen to his feet, and had already turned to go.  Now he stretched his great coarse hand out to me.

“All in good part, eh?”

I took his hand.  He meant no harm, did old Leroux.  He was just a common, vulgar fellow who did not know a gentleman when he saw one.

And we parted the best of friends.

2.

A week later I was at Gex.  At St. Claude I had parted from Leroux, and then hired a chaise to take me to my destination.  It was a matter of fifteen kilometres by road over the frontier of the customs zone and through the most superb scenery I had ever seen in my life.  We drove through narrow gorges, on each side of which the mountain heights rose rugged and precipitous to incalculable altitudes above.  From time to time only did I get peeps of almost imperceptible tracks along the declivities, tracks on which it seemed as if goats alone could obtain a footing.  Once—­hundreds of feet above me—­I spied a couple of mules descending what seemed like a sheer perpendicular path down the mountain side.  The animals appeared to be heavily laden, and I marvelled what forbidden goods lay hidden within their packs and whether in the days that were to come I too should be called upon to risk my life on those declivities following in the footsteps of the reckless and desperate criminals whom it was my duty to pursue.

I confess that at the thought, and with those pictures of grim nature before me, I felt an unpleasant shiver coursing down my spine.