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Updated: June 8, 2025
This absolute isolation seems a curious condition, perhaps, but Hagon insists upon it, and I can assure you that he knows his business. The mystery, as you have termed it, of his disappearance that morning, is that he went upstairs with Hagon for several hours to undergo a medical examination, instead of leaving the building forthwith." "Queer thing I never thought of Hagon," Francis remarked.
"I am myself a wealthy man. I ask from you nothing in money I ask you nothing in that way at all. A few words of information, and a certain paper, which I believe you have in your possession, is all that I require." "Information," Hagon repeated, shivering. "What I ask," De Grost declared, "is really a matter of justice.
"My business is soon told," De Grost replied, "but in the first place, I beg that you will not unnecessarily alarm yourself. There is, believe me, no need for it, no need whatever, although, to prevent misunderstandings, I may as well tell you at once that I am perfectly well aware who it is that I am addressing." Hagon collapsed into a chair. He buried his face in his hands and groaned.
I want the name of that Power, and proof of what I say." Hagon remained motionless for a moment. He had seated himself at the table, his head resting upon his hand and his face turned away from De Grost. "You are a politician, then?" he asked, slowly. "I am a politician," De Grost admitted. "I represent a great secret power which has sprung into existence during the last few years.
Hagon turned round and faced him. "Sir," he demanded, "do you believe that I am afraid of death?" De Grost looked at him steadfastly. "No," he answered. "You have proved the contrary." "If my identity is discovered," Hagon continued, "I have the means of instant death at hand. I do not use it because of my love for the one person who links me to this world.
There was a loud tapping at the door. Bernadine threw an antimacassar half over the box, but he was too late. De Grost and Hagon had crossed the threshold. The woman stood like some dumb creature. Hagon, transfixed, stood with his eyes riveted upon Bernadine. His face was distorted with passion; he seemed like a man beside himself with fury.
He had made a little progress, but, after all, was it worth while? Supposing that the man with whom her husband was even at this moment closeted, was the Baron de Grost! He called a taxicab and drove at once to the Embassy of his country. Even at that moment, De Grost and the Russian Paul Hagon he called himself were standing face to face in the latter's sitting-room.
There was a loud tapping at the door. Bernadine threw an antimacassar half over the box, but he was too late. De Grost and Hagon had crossed the threshold. The woman stood like some dumb creature. Hagon, transfixed, stood with his eyes riveted upon Bernadine. His face was distorted with passion, he seemed like a man beside himself with fury.
Hagon turned round and faced him. "Sir," he demanded, "do you believe that I am afraid of death?" De Grost looked at him steadfastly. "No," he answered, "you have proved the contrary." "If my identity is discovered," Hagon continued, "I have the means of instant death at hand. I do not use it because of my love for the one person who links me to this world.
Our aim, at present, is to bring closer together your country and Great Britain. Russia hesitates because an actual rapprochement with us is equivalent to a permanent estrangement with Germany." Hagon nodded. "I understand," he said, in a low tone. "I have finished with politics. I have nothing to say to you." "I trust," de Grost persisted suavely, "that you will be better advised."
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