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Updated: June 20, 2025
"The two cases," he said slowly, "are not identical. The New York Herald perpetrates a huge joke upon its readers. Whichever way that affair ends, the newspaper has little to lose! You ask me, on the other hand, to risk ruin!" "I do!" Monsieur Bardow answered.
"We have submitted our proofs," he said, "and they have been received with derision. Your ambassador, Monsieur Bardow, has spoken for us and in vain! In what different manner can we approach this wooden-headed government? You have come here with something to propose! What is it?" Monsieur Bardow nodded assent. He opened his mouth to speak. Suddenly his expression changed. He pointed to the door.
"There is only one way," Monsieur Bardow declared, "but it is a royal way. The things which we four in this cab know could be driven home to every living Englishman in little more than twelve hours' time, if we can only find !" "The Press!" I cried. "If we can only find," Monsieur Bardow continued, with a little nod, "an editor man enough to throw the great dice!" "Staunton!" Guest exclaimed.
From all sides a great crowd gathered, with almost inconceivable rapidity. We pushed our way through, and gained a side street in safety. Monsieur Bardow arrested the attention of a four-wheeled cab galloping towards the scene of the disaster, and motioned us to enter. We all crowded in, and Monsieur Bardow, who entered last, gave an address to the driver.
"The Cafe Suisse," I told him. From his look of interest, I knew that he had heard something about the place. "Well," he said, "let me hear the stories." Guest told his first, I followed, Adele told hers, and Monsieur Bardow rapidly filled in certain blanks. All the while Staunton listened in silence.
"We go no further," he said. "It shall leave!" The cab drew up before the palatial offices of the Daily Oracle. Monsieur Bardow took the lead, and with very little delay we were escorted to a lift, and into a waiting-room on the third floor. Here our guide left us, but only for a moment. He was sitting, a slight, spare man, before a long table in the middle of a handsomely furnished room.
He had opened an atlas, and studied it carefully with a cigarette in his mouth, whilst Monsieur Bardow was speaking. When he had heard everything we had to say, he pushed the atlas back and leaned over the table towards us. "You ask me," he said slowly, "to publish this story to-morrow. With what object?"
"Each one of us," Monsieur Bardow said, standing, a slim, calm figure at the end of the table, with his fingers resting upon its leather top, "has a story to tell you. The stories vary only from their point of view. The end of all is the same.
Before him were telephones of various sorts, a mass of documents, and a dummy newspaper. He held out his hand to Monsieur Bardow, and half rose to his feet as he noticed Adele. "You have something to say to me, Monsieur Bardow?" he said rapidly. "As quickly as possible, if you please! This is the busiest hour of the day for me."
In obedience to a peremptory gesture from Guest, the waiter hurried off, and returned almost immediately carrying a small black bag. Bardow held it for a moment to his ear. We were all conscious of a faint purring noise. Nagaski began to whine. Monsieur Bardow laid the bag gently down upon the table. "Out of the place for your lives!" he commanded in a tone of thunder.
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