‘I will confess so much,’ said Mr. Romaine, ’if you call it prevarication.  The order in question emanated from the Count himself.  He does not wish to see you.’

‘For which I must take the word of Mr. Daniel Romaine?’ asked Alain.

‘In default of any better,’ said Romaine.

There was an instantaneous convulsion in my cousin’s face, and I distinctly heard him gnash his teeth at this reply; but, to my surprise, he resumed in tones of almost good humour: 

‘Come, Mr. Romaine, do not let us be petty!’ He drew in a chair and sat down.  ’Understand you have stolen a march upon me.  You have introduced your soldier of Napoleon, and (how, I cannot conceive) he has been apparently accepted with favour.  I ask no better proof than the funds with which I find him literally surrounded—­I presume in consequence of some extravagance of joy at the first sight of so much money.  The odds are so far in your favour, but the match is not yet won.  Questions will arise of undue influence, of sequestration, and the like:  I have my witnesses ready.  I tell it you cynically, for you cannot profit by the knowledge; and, if the worst come to the worst, I have good hopes of recovering my own and of ruining you.’

‘You do what you please,’ answered Romaine; ’but I give it you for a piece of good advice, you had best do nothing in the matter.  You will only make yourself ridiculous; you will only squander money, of which you have none too much, and reap public mortification.’

‘Ah, but there you make the common mistake, Mr. Romaine!’ returned Alain.  ’You despise your adversary.  Consider, if you please, how very disagreeable I could make myself, if I chose.  Consider the position of your protege—­an escaped prisoner!  But I play a great game.  I condemn such petty opportunities.’

At this Romaine and I exchanged a glance of triumph.  It seemed manifest that Alain had as yet received no word of Clausel’s recapture and denunciation.  At the same moment the lawyer, thus relieved of the instancy of his fear, changed his tactics.  With a great air of unconcern, he secured the newspaper, which still lay open before him on the table.

‘I think, Monsieur Alain, that you labour under some illusion,’ said he.  ’Believe me, this is all beside the mark.  You seem to be pointing to some compromise.  Nothing is further from my views.  You suspect me of an inclination to trifle with you, to conceal how things are going.  I cannot, on the other hand, be too early or too explicit in giving you information which concerns you (I must say) capitally.  Your great-uncle has to-night cancelled his will, and made a new one in favour of your cousin Anne.  Nay, and you shall hear it from his own lips, if you choose!  I will take so much upon me,’ said the lawyer, rising.  ’Follow me, if you please, gentlemen.’