Should he tell his brother? If he could represent the matter in such a light to his brother as to induce Hugh to produce the funds for purchasing the Spy’s services, the whole thing would be complete with a completeness that has rarely been equalled. But he doubted. Hugh was a hard man—a hard, unimaginative man, and might possibly altogether refuse to believe in the Russian spy. Hugh believed in little but what he himself saw, and usually kept a very firm grasp upon his money.
“That Madame Gordeloup is always with Julia,” Archie said, trying the way, as it were, before he told his plan.
“Of course she will help her brother’s views.”
“I’m not so sure of that. Some of these foreign women ain’t like other women at all. They go deeper;—a doosed sight deeper.”
“Into men’s pockets, you mean.”
“They play a deep game altogether. What do you suppose she is, now?” This question Archie asked in a whisper, bending his head forward towards his brother, though there was no one else in the carriage with them.
“What she is? A thief of some kind probably. I’ve no doubt she’s up to any roguery.”
“She’s a—Russian spy.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that for the last dozen years. All the ugly old Frenchwomen in London are Russian spies, according to what people say; but the Russians know how to use their money better than that. If they employ spies, they employ people who can spy something.”
Archie felt this to be cruel—very cruel, but he said nothing further about it. His brother was stupid, pigheaded, obstinate, and quite unfitted by nature for affairs of intrigue. It was, alas, certain that his brother would provide no money for such a purpose as that he now projected; but, thinking of this, he found some consolation in the reflection that Hugh would not be a participator with him in his great secret. When he should have bought the Russian spy, he and Doodles would rejoice together in privacy without any third confederate. Triumviri might be very well; Archie also had heard of triumviri; but two were company, and three were none. Thus he consoled himself when his pigheaded brother expressed his disbelief in the Russian spy.
There was nothing more said between them in the railway carriage, and, as they parted at the door in Berkeley Square, Hugh swore to himself that this should be the last season in which he would harbour his brother in London. After this he must have a house of his own there, or have no house at all. Then Archie went down to his club, and finally arranged with Doodles that the first visit to the Spy should be made on the following morning. After much consultation it was agreed between them that the way should be paved by a diplomatic note. The diplomatic note was therefore written by Doodles and copied by Archie.
“Captain Clavering presents his compliments to Madame Gordeloup, and proposes to call upon her tomorrow morning at twelve o’clock, if that hour will be convenient. Captain Clavering is desirous of consulting Madame Gordeloup on an affair of much importance.” “Consult me!” said Sophie to herself, when she got the letter. “For what should he consult me? It is that stupid man I saw with Julie. Ah, well; never mind. The stupid man shall come.” The commissioner, therefore, who had taken the letter to Mount Street, returned to the club with a note in which Madame Gordeloup expressed her willingness to undergo the proposed interview. Archie felt that the letter—a letter from a Russian spy addressed positively to himself—gave him already diplomatic rank, and he kept it as a treasure in his breast coat-pocket.
It then became necessary that he and his friend should discuss the manner in which the Spy should be managed. Doodles had his misgivings that Archie would be awkward, and almost angered his friend by the repetition of his cautions. “You mustn’t chuck your money at her head, you know,” said Doodles.
“Of course not; but when the time comes I shall slip the notes into her hand—with a little pressure perhaps.”
“It would be better to leave them near her on the table.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, yes; a great deal. It’s always done in that way.”
“But perhaps she wouldn’t see them—or wouldn’t know where they came from.”
“Let her alone for that.”
“But I must make her understand what I want of her—in return, you know. I ain’t going to give her twenty pounds for nothing.”
“You must explain that at first; tell her that you expect her aid, and that she will find you a grateful friend—a grateful friend, say;—mind you remember that.”
“Yes; I’ll remember that. I suppose it would be as good a way as any.”
“It’s the only way, unless you want her to ring for the servant to kick you out of the house. It’s as well understood as A.B.C., among the people who do these things. I should say take jewellery instead of money if she were anything but a Russian spy; but they understand the thing so well, that you may go farther with them than with others.”
Archie’s admiration for Sophie became still higher as he heard this. “I do like people,” said he, “who understand what’s
