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Page 8
"No, because what I do must be done secretly. It will not matter that
Germany also knows and waits. But this is true; if we do not
circumvent him, she will make use of whatever he does."
"It has its whimsical side. Here is a man who may some day blow up
France, and yet we can put no hand on him till he throws the bomb."
"But there is always time to stop the flight of the bomb. That shall
be my concern; that is, if monsieur is not becoming discouraged and
desires me to occupy myself with other things. I repeat: I have
rheumatism, I apprehend the damp. He will go to America."
"Ah! It would be a very good plan if he remained there."
The little man did not reply.
"But you say in your reports that you have seen him going about with
some of the Orleanists. What is your inference there?"
"I have not yet formed one. It is a bit of a riddle there, for the
crow and the eagle do not fly together."
"Well, follow him to America."
"Thanks. The pay is good and the work is congenial." The tone of the
little man was softly given to irony.
Gray-haired, rosy-cheeked, a face smooth as a boy's, twinkling eyes
behind spectacles, he was one of the most astute, learned, and patient
of the French secret police. And he did not care the flip of his
strong brown fingers for the methods of Vidocq or Lecoq. His only
disguise was that not one of the criminal police of the world knew him
or had ever heard of him; and save his chief and three ministers of
war--for French cabinets are given to change--his own immediate friends
knew him as a butterfly hunter, a searcher for beetles and scarabs,
who, indeed, was one of the first authorities in France on the
subjects: Anatole Ferraud, who went about, hither and thither, with a
little red button in his buttonhole and a tongue facile in a dozen
languages.
"Very well, monsieur. I trust that in the near future I may bring you
good news."
"He will become nothing or the most desperate man in Europe."
"Admitted."
"He is a scholar, too."
"All the more interesting."
"As a student in Munich he has fought his three duels. He has been a
war correspondent under fire. He is a great fencer, a fine shot, a
daring rider."
"And penniless. What a country they have over there beyond the Rhine!
He would never have troubled his head about it, had they not harried
him. To stir up France, to wound her if possible! He will be a man of
great courage and resource," said the secret agent, drawing the palms
of his hands together.
"In the end, then, Germany will offer him money?"
"That is the possible outlook."
"But, suppose he went to work on his own responsibility?"
"In that case one would be justified in locking him up as a madman. Do
you know anything about Alpine butterflies?"
"Very little," confessed the minister.
"There is often great danger in getting at them; but the pleasure is
commensurate."
"Are there not rare butterflies in the Amazonian swamps?" cynically.
"Ah, but this man has good blood in him; and if he flies at all he will
fly high. Think of this man fifty years ago; what a possibility he
would have been! But it is out of fashion to-day. Well, monsieur, I
must be off. There is an old manuscript at the Biblioth�que I wish to
inspect."
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