“I have been to Dresden and to London,” answered Wanda, “and a woman always sees much more than a man.”

“Always?” asked Kosmaroff, with his one-sided smile.

“Always.”

But Kosmaroff had turned towards the prince in his quick, jerky way.

“By-the-way,” he asked, “what is Cartoner doing in Warsaw?”

“Cartoner—­the Englishman who speaks so many languages?  We met him in London,” answered the prince.  “Who is he?  Why should he not be here?”

“I will tell you who he is,” answered Kosmaroff, with a sudden light in his eyes.  “He is the man that the English send when they suspect that something is going on which they can turn to good account.  He has a trick of finding things out—­that man.  Such is his reputation, at all events.  Paul Deulin is another, and he is here.  He is a friend of yours, by-the-way; but he is not dangerous, like Cartoner.  There is an American here, too.  His instructions are Warsaw and Petersburg.  There is either something moving in Russia or else the powers suspect that something may move in Poland before long.  These men are here to find out.  They must find out nothing from us.”

The prince shrugged his shoulders indifferently.  He did not attach much importance to these foreigners.

“Of course,” went on Kosmaroff, “they are only watchers.  But, as Wanda says, some people see more than others.  The American, Mangles, who has ladies with him, will report upon events after they have happened.  So will Deulin, who is an idler.  He never sees that which will give him trouble.  He does not write long despatches to the Quai d’Orsay, because he knows that they will not be read there.  But Cartoner is different.  There are never any surprises for the English in matters that Cartoner has in hand.  He reports on events before they have happened, which is a different story.  I merely warn you.”

As he spoke, Kosmaroff rose, glancing at the clock.

“There are no instructions?”

“None,” answered the prince.  “Except the usual one—­patience!”

“Ah yes,” replied Kosmaroff, “we shall be patient.”

He did not seem to think that it might be easier to be patient in this comfortable house than on the sand-hills of the Vistula in the coming winter months.

“But be careful,” he added, addressing Martin more particularly, “of this man Cartoner.  He will not betray, but he will know—­you understand.  And no one must know!”

He shook hands with Martin and Wanda and then with the prince.

“You met him in London, you say?” he said to the prince.  “What did you think of him?”

“I thought him—­a quiet man.”

“And Wanda?” continued Kosmaroff, lightly, turning to her—­“she who sees so much.  What did she think of him?”

“I was afraid of him!”

XI

AN AGREEMENT TO DIFFER