'You had better come with me,' said Ragoczy in amusement. 'I have the key.'
'Oh. Yes.' Hurriedly John Henry grabbed his greatcoat, thinking it was sadly shabby next to Ragoczy's splendid cloak. He extinguished the lamp, stirred the embers of the dying fire with the poker, and hurried out of the door and watched while the count set the locks.
'Please inform Mr Tubbs that I will keep the key another evening,' he said, then reconsidered. 'No. That will not do.' He nodded decisively once. 'I will send a note around in the afternoon, informing him that I will need the key one night longer. I will request you remain to assist me again. He will not have time to ask me to change plans.'
'Do you think he would?' John Henry asked, shocked at the implication of Ragoczy's instructions.
'I think it is possible,' said Ragoczy as he raised his hood. 'Come. At the next corner we should find cabs about, no matter how late it is.'
For an instant the five pound note in this waistcoat pocket seemed to emit a brilliant light; John Henry realized that such an extravagance would truly be a sensible, prudent act when he had so much money. 'Right you are, Count,' he said, and tagged after the black-cloaked foreigner.
'This is really most inconsiderate,' complained Mr Tubbs as he lingered at the door the following evening, glaring balefully at the thickening Thames fog. 'Imagine! Putting you out this way twice! It is outside of enough, and so I will tell Mr Lamkin when he returns. What right does he think he has, making these demands?' He modified his indignation. 'Well, foreigners never do know what is proper behaviour.'
John Henry professed surprise that Ragoczy had not yet arrived, though he had anticipated the excitement when the count's note, written in a fine, small, sloping hand on cream-laid stationery, had been delivered a few minutes after four by an austere man of middle years and steadfast demeanour.
Mr Tubbs,
I find I cannot get away for another hour at least. Would you be kind enough to ask Mr Brodribb to wait for me? I realize this is an inconvenience for you and for him, and I regret the necessity of making this request of you. Believe me all contrition; the press of circumstances are such that my time will not be my own for a while.
Accept my thanks and the enclosed for any inconvenience I may have caused you.
Ferenc Ragoczy
Count Saint-Germain
(his seal, the eclipse)
Three shillings had accompanied the note; Mr Tubbs pocketed them with alacrity.
'I'll use the time to study,' said John Henry. 'It's no matter to me if I do it here or elsewhere.'
'That's generous of you,' said Mr Tubbs. 'You are aware, are you not, that if Ragoczy fails to arrive, you will have to spend the night here? I cannot yet entrust a key to you, or I would do it.' This last was patently false and both of them knew it.
'I will manage,' said John Henry, going to draw the shades. 'Hurry on, Mr Tubbs. You'll miss your tea.'
Reluctantly Mr Tubbs backed into the street, his coat collar raised and his hat set low against the mizzle. After he pulled the door to behind him, he made a point of testing the lock when he had set it.
John Henry listened to Mr Tubbs's footsteps fade into the rest of the noise from the street. He finished the last of a cold, bitter cup of tea that stood on his desk, and then, with caution, he removed a small book from the locked lower drawer of his desk. He could not help grinning at the well-thumbed pages: The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare .
He moved the chairs and made himself a small rehearsal area in the middle of the room, then set about his on-going memorization of Romeo.
Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
And all combined, save what thou must combine
By holy marriage: when, and where, and how,
We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us today.
John Henry was so caught up in his performance that the spoken answer rattled him the more for being the words he spoke in his mind.
' Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here !' said Ragoczy. He was standing just inside the door, his cloak blending with the shadows.
Looking around as if he feared he had a larger audience, John Henry said, 'I didn't hear you knock.'
Ragoczy held up the key.
'Of course,' said John Henry, his manner now crestfallen. 'You came in very quietly.'
'You were preoccupied,' said Ragoczy, indicating the script John Henry held.
'This.' He sighed. 'You know my secret, then. I suppose you'll tell Mr Tubbs.'
'Why should I?' asked Ragoczy, taking off his cloak and revealing formal evening dress, including a glistening red silken sash over his shoulder with the diamond-studded Order of Saint Stephen of Hungary blazing on it. 'What
