“But even with her you must be very careful.”
“Oh, yes; that’s a matter of course.”
“When I was declaring for the last time that she would find me a grateful friend, just at the word grateful, I would put down the four fivers on the table, smoothing them with my hand like that.” Then Doodles acted the part, putting a great deal of emphasis on the word grateful, as he went through the smoothing ceremony with two or three sheets of club notepaper. “That’s your game, you may be sure. If you put them into her hand she may feel herself obliged to pretend to be angry; but she can’t be angry simply because you put your money on her table. Do you see that, old fellow?” Archie declared that he did see it very plainly. “If she does not choose to undertake the job, she’ll merely have to tell you that you have left something behind you.”
“But there’s no fear of that, I suppose?”
“I can’t say. Her hands may be full, you know, or she may think you don’t go high enough.”
“But I mean to tip her again, of course.”
“Again! I should think so. I suppose she must have about a couple of hundred before the end of next month if she’s to do any good. After a bit you’ll be able to explain that she shall have a sum down when the marriage has come off.”
“She won’t take the money and do nothing; will she?”
“Oh, no; they never sell you like that. It would spoil their own business if they were to play that game. If you can make it worth her while, she’ll do the work for you. But you must be careful;—do remember that.” Archie shook his head, almost in anger, and then went home for his night’s rest.
On the next morning he dressed himself in his best, and presented himself at the door in Mount Street, exactly as the clock struck twelve. He had an idea that these people were very punctilious as to time. Who could say but that the French ambassador might have an appointment with Madame Gordeloup at half-past one—or perhaps some emissary from the Pope! He had resolved that he would not take his left glove off his hand, and he had thrust the notes in under the palm of his glove, thinking he could get at them easier from there, should they be wanted in a moment, than he could do from his waistcoat pocket. He knocked at the door, knowing that he trembled as he did so, and felt considerable relief when he found himself to be alone in the room to which he was shown. He knew that men conversant with intrigues always go to work with their eyes open, and, therefore, at once, he began to look about him. Could he not put the money into some convenient hiding-place—now at once? There, in one corner, was the spot in which she would seat herself upon the sofa. He saw plainly enough, as with the eye of a Talleyrand, the marks thereon of her constant sitting. So he seized the moment to place a chair suitable for himself, and cleared a few inches on the table near to it, for the smoothing of the banknotes—feeling, while so employed, that he was doing great things. He had almost made up his mind to slip one note between the pages of a book, not with any well-defined plan as to the utility of such a measure, but because it seemed to be such a diplomatic thing to do! But while this grand idea was still flashing backwards and forwards across his brain, the door opened, and he found himself in the presence of—the Russian spy.
He at once saw that the Russian spy was very dirty, and that she wore a nightcap, but he liked her the better on that account. A female Russian spy should, he felt, differ much in her attire from other women. If possible, she should be arrayed in diamonds, and pearl eardrops, with as little else upon her as might be; but failing that costume, which might be regarded as the appropriate evening spy costume—a tumbled nightcap, and a dirty white wrapper, old cloth slippers, and objectionable stockings were just what they should be.
“Ah!” said the lady, “you are Captain Clavering. Yes, I remember.”
“I am Captain Clavering. I had the honour of meeting you at Lady Ongar’s.”
“And now you wish to consult me on an affair of great importance. Very well. You may consult me. Will you sit down—there.” And Madame Gordeloup indicated to him a chair just opposite to herself, and far removed from that convenient spot which Archie had prepared for the smoothing of the banknotes. Near to the place now assigned to him there was no table whatever, and he felt that he would in that position be so completely raked by the fire of her keen eyes, that he would not be able to carry on his battle upon good terms. In spite, therefore, of the lady’s very plain instructions, he made an attempt to take possession of the chair which he had himself placed; but it was an ineffectual attempt, for the Spy was very peremptory with him. “There, Captain Clavering; there; there; you will be best there.” Then he did as he was bid, and seated himself, as it were, quite out at sea, with nothing but an ocean of carpet around him, and with no possibility of manipulating his notes except under the raking fire of those terribly sharp eyes. “And now,” said Madame Gordeloup, “you can commence to consult me. What is the business?”
Ah; what was the business? That was now the difficulty? In discussing the proper way of tendering the banknotes, I fear the two captains had forgotten the nicest point of the whole negotiation. How was he to tell her what it was that he wanted to do himself, and what that she was
