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Bernadine at heart is a savage." "The hate of such a man," de Grost remarked complacently, "is worth having. He has had his own way over here for years. He seems to have found the knack of living in a maze of intrigue and remaining untouchable. There were a dozen things before I came upon the scene which ought to have ruined him. Yet there never appeared to be anything to take hold of.
He turned away, leaving Courtledge alone, for a minute or two, on the threshold of the card room. The secretary's attention was riveted upon the table near the wall, and the frown on his face deepened. Just as he was moving off, the Baron de Grost rose and joined him. "They are playing a little high in here this evening," the latter remarked quietly. Courtledge frowned.
De Grost drew his case from his pocket and wrote a few lines on the back of one of his cards. "This will ensure you entrance there," he said, "and access to my study. If you see my wife, please reassure her as to my absence." "I shall certainly do so," Bernadine agreed, with a faint smile.
Sogrange nodded approvingly. "It is well spoken," he said, "but remember the Baron de Grost represents England and the English interests of our Society." The Prince of Marsine's face was not pleasant to look upon.
Close to it, in an easy chair, his evening coat changed for a smoking jacket, with a neatly tied black tie replacing his crumpled white cravat, the Baron de Grost sat awaiting his guest. A fierce oath broke from Bernadine's lips. He turned toward the door only in time to hear the key turn. Violet tossed it lightly in the air across to her husband.
A sudden illuminating flash of horror told her the truth. She closed her eyes and tried to run from the room. "I will not be told," she screamed. "I will not hear. I do not know who you are. I will live a little longer." "Madame," De Grost said, "the Double-Four wages no war with women, save with spies only. The spy has no sex.
A moment later he was exchanging the most cordial of greetings with his old friend. "You have the knack, my dear De Grost," he remarked, "of turning up in the most surprising places. I certainly did not know that among your many accomplishments was included a love for field sports." Peter smiled quietly. He was a very fine shot, and knew it. "One must amuse oneself these days," he said.
"I wish I had been in the club when they started," he said, gloomily. "My task is all the more difficult now." The Baron de Grost looked pensively, for a moment, at the cigarette which he was carrying. "By the bye, Mr. Courtledge," he asked, with apparent irrelevance, "what was the name of the tall man with whom you were talking just now?" "Count von Hern.
One has to entertain, and one forgets the serious business of lunching. I will take my coffee and cigarette in peace." De Grost gave an order to the waiter and leaned back in his chair. "Now," he suggested, "tell me exactly what it is that has brought you back into the restaurant." Bernadine shrugged his shoulders. "Why not the pleasure of this few minutes' conversation with you?" he asked.
A man in dark, plain clothes, still wearing his overcoat, and carrying a bowler hat, had been standing in the entrance of the restaurant for a moment or two, looking around the room as though in search of some one. At last he caught the eye of the Baron de Grost and came quickly toward him. "Charles," the Baron remarked, raising his eyebrows. "I wonder what he wants."
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