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He would find a small electric launch waiting for him at seven-thirty at the Eaux-Vives jetty, in which would be Dr. Franchi's niece, who had been attending the Assembly that afternoon. "Excellent," thought Henry. "I will go." For he was greatly attracted by Dr. Franchi, and liked also to dine out, and to have a trip up to Monet in a motor launch.
Henry stepped right in, and sat down by this prepossessing girl. "I must introduce myself," she said. "My name is Gina Longfellow, and I'm Dr. Franchi's niece." "What excellent English you talk," said Henry politely. "American," she corrected him. "My father was a native of Joliet, Ill. Are you acquainted with the Middle West?"
The launch dashed up to the Quai du Seujet, and Henry presented a franc to the pilot, and stepped off, trying to emulate this gentleman's air of never having visited such a low wharf before. "You have brought me rather too far," he said. "But I will walk back." But, now he came to think of it, Dr. Franchi's man must obviously know where he lived, so camouflage was unavailing.
"Give me time! give me time!" was Franchi's answer. He raised his head, and eyed them all with a look of feigned surprise. "Is it possible no one has heard it?" He was answered by a general protest that nothing had been heard. "Nobody knows what has happened at the Universo?" Franchi asked with unusual energy. "No, no!" burst forth from Malatesta and Orsetti. "No, no!" sounded from behind.
Franchi's delicate, dark Latin brows rose. "The gold-fish? Ah, my wicked Pellico.... I cannot keep him from the bowl, the rascal. I regret that he so upset you. But the sensibility of gold-fish is not great, surely? As the peasants say, non son chretiani loro!" "Forgive me. To see a live fish devoured ... it took me unawares.... I shall be all right soon...."
She would not consciously betray her chief's confidence, though she does not like him; but all the same I get many clues from her.... Oh, my God !" The ejaculation, which was made under his breath, was shocked involuntarily out of him by the sight of Dr. Franchi's Persian cat extracting with its paw from a bowl that stood on the terrace balustrade a large gold-fish and devouring it.
I learnt this yesterday from Dr. Franchi's trusted servant, a scoundrel of a Roumanian Baptist, who was moved at last by the persecution of his co-religionists and relatives in Roumania, touchingly set before him by Mademoiselle the Roumanian delegate, to give the League a chance. After many years' faithful service this ruffian betrayed his master and is assisting me to arrest him.
He hated to talk about atheists, and about how God had fashioned so beautiful a world. It might be so, but the world, on such a night, was enough in itself. Dr. Franchi's keen, gentle eyes, the eyes of a shrewd weigher of men, observed him and his distastes. "An æsthete," he judged. "God has given him intuition rather than reason. And not very much even of that.
Anyhow, one after another, and each in his appropriate manner, the delegates disappear underground. They are then conveyed by Dr. Franchi's employees either underground all the way to the château or to an exit close to the lake, whence they can be secretly embarked by covered boat.