Read Behind the Throne Page 7

theItalian drained his glass, saying--

  "Let us go! I've had enough of this! Come on to Claridge's with me fora final cigar."

  "A moment?" exclaimed Dubard, his eyes fixed across the room. "Do yousee over there, just behind the column, two ladies with a stout man withgrey side-whiskers? One of the ladies is in blue. What a terriblevulgarian the fellow is! I've been watching him."

  The general glanced in the direction indicated and replied--

  "Oh yes, I noticed him as we came in. You're right, my dear Jules, thatfellow is a vulgarian. I met him once in Rome. His name isMorgan-Mason, a deputy and very wealthy."

  "Morgan-Mason!" echoed the Frenchman, looking hard at him. "Ah!" headded, "I've heard of him, of course. Yes. Let us go," and they bothrose, descended by the lift, and drove in a hansom to Claridge's.

  In the Under-Secretary's elegant little sitting-room--the room whereinthat afternoon he had accepted the German contractor's bribe on Morini'sbehalf--he drew forth a box of choice cigars, and they both commenced tosmoke.

  A brief and rather painful silence fell between them. Both men had thatevening exhibited towards each other a strained politeness, each knowingthat the other hated him. Dubard's defiance on the previous night hadupset all the calculations of that past-master of intrigue, AngeloBorselli, whose dark eyes now darted a swift glance at his companionlolling back in the big arm-chair apparently perfectly at his ease.

  To Borselli's surprise, and believing that his departure had been due tohis threat on the previous night, Dubard had left Rugby for London anhour before he had, but at four o'clock that afternoon he had sent aninvitation to the Carlton, suggesting that they should spend the eveningtogether at a theatre, which they had done.

  There was a mystery in the Frenchman's sudden departure from Orton, andin it Borselli suspected an ingenious move. Throughout the whole day hehad reasoned within himself, finally coming to the conclusion that itwas better to be friendly with such a man as Jules Dubard than to be hisenemy.

  Dubard had seen during the evening that his companion wished to speakwith him but was hesitating. At last, however, after they had smoked insilence for some minutes, the crafty Sicilian stroked his moustache andexclaimed--

  "I fear, my dear Jules, that I was rather hasty, perhaps rude, lastnight. Yet, after all, I am very glad that you took my hint and leftOrton."

  The Frenchman opened his eyes widely at the man's calm audacity.

  "I did not take your hint in the least, I assure you," he exclaimed,with quick indignation. "I left Orton for quite another reason."

  The sallow-faced man smiled, as though quite unconscious of hiscompanion's anger.

  "Yes," he said. "I know. You cannot deceive me."

  "You know?" cried the Frenchman, starting to his feet. "What do youknow? Have you invited me up here to threaten me again?"

  "I merely say that I know the reason why you received the letter callingyou to Paris this morning," replied the Under-Secretary in a cold, calmvoice. "It was because you met and were recognised by a certainEnglishman named Macbean, the secretary of that vulgar fellow we saweating his supper half an hour ago."

  Dubard's jaw fell. He saw that by some utterly unaccountable means hisenemy was aware of the real reason which compelled him to fly fromLeicestershire.

  Was it possible that he could know the whole truth? No; it wasimpossible. Macbean dare not speak. Of that he felt quite assured.

  "Ah?" continued the general, a grim smile crossing his thin, hardfeatures as he narrowly watched his companion. "You see I am not quiteas ignorant of the past as you believe, my dear Jules."

  "Nor am I!" cried the Frenchman, turning upon him savagely. "Last nightyou threatened me, remember!"

  "And to-night I have invited you here, my dear friend, to arrive at someamicable agreement that will be to our mutual advantage," answered theclever Under-Secretary, with a suavity of manner which showed him to bea born diplomat.

  "Yes, I know," answered the other in a dry, hard voice. "This is notthe first time you and I have discussed matters, General Borselli. Iknow that if it suited you you'd betray your own mother. You have noconscience, no code of honour?"

  "My code of honour is exactly the same as yours, _caro mio_," repliedthe Italian, laughing. "I try to turn all I can into profit for myself,just as you are trying to do. My maxim is `self first.'"

  "And for that reason you are plotting the downfall of Morini and thewhole Ministry!"

  "A work in which you are actively assisting," added the Under-Secretary.

  "I did not come here to be insulted," Dubard protested.

  "Neither did I invite you here to pose as a censor of politicalmorality," responded his shrewd companion, looking straight anddeterminedly into his pale face. "But why should we quarrel, when it isto our mutual interests to remain friendly?"

  "I have not quarrelled. Last night you objected to me visiting theMorinis."

  "Because I am well aware of your object."

  "I admit that I intend to marry Mary," and he removed his cigar from hismouth and examined it.

  "And you have also a further object in view, my dear count--one that iseven more interesting," declared Borselli, "a plan that I can veryeasily frustrate."

  "Well, you told me that last night," he said. "And I, on my part,frankly declare that I do not in the least fear any revelations you canmake."

  "Not of the affair of General Sazarac?" whispered the cunning Italian,his dark eyes fixed upon the younger man as he bent towards him. "Haveyou so completely forgotten certain events which, if recalled, wouldmean--well, they would mean that you would neither marry Morini'sdaughter nor be successful in the next very ingenious trick by which youintend to make a grand _coup_ at the expense of my country."

  At the mention of the name of General Sazarac the other's face blanched,and holding his breath he stood glaring at the man who with raisedeyebrows smiled so calmly at him. He saw that this political adventurerwas aware of a certain deep, terrible secret of the past which hebelieved was buried for ever. His enemy's attitude of cool confidencewas sufficient to bring him at once to a sense of his insecurity.

  "Well?" he managed to gasp. "And what is your proposal?"

  "Ah, my dear friend, I am glad you are ready to listen to reason,"responded the Sicilian. "We must both face the future unshrinkingly,you know. You have your own schemes; I have mine. By acting in accordwe shall succeed, but if we are enemies then we shall commit the veryfoolish and unpardonable error of exposing each other. I know quitewell that there are certain rather unfortunate incidents regarding myown career, those disagreeable little matters of which you haveknowledge, and by which you could retaliate. You see, I do not for asingle moment intend to deny them. On the contrary, I frankly suggestthat by an agreement of silence we can be helpful in each other'sinterests. We both desire advancement, and can gain it through themedium of Morini. Are you not agreed?"

  Dubard, slowly convinced that without the general's aid he must bepowerless and in peril, nodded in the affirmative. He did not discernthe wily man's ulterior motive, or the secret reason of the proposedcompact.

  "Your primary object, my dear Jules, is of course money," the generalwent on. "Now, by a simple written declaration I shall absolve you fromall connection with the Sazarac affair, while you, on your part, willdeny my connection with that ugly little matter in Rome two years ago.Both of us will then emerge again honest and upright--models of virtue.Bygones will be bygones. I shall go my way, you will go yours; I toassist you, and you to help me--a perfectly reciprocal arrangement. Ishall become Minister, while you--well, you will by a single _coup_become a rich man, and at the same time gain a very charming wife."

  "And Morini?"

  The Under-Secretary elevated his shoulders and exhibited his palms.

  "And the Englishman Macbean?"

  "He is a mere fly in amber," declared the Sicilian, with a sinistersmile. "Fortune lies before us in Italy, my dear Jules--for you weal
thand a wife; for me, office and distinction. By acting in accord we havenothing whatever to fear. Morini dare not disobey us, and Macbean,being a poor man, will easily fall into our power. Leave him entirelyto me. I have a scheme by which he will shortly discover that his wholefuture depends upon his silence, and that a single indiscreet word willmean his ruin."

  "And if that fails?"

  "Then there is still that effective method which was adopted towardsSazarac--you understand?"

  The Frenchman nodded, darting a swift glance at the thin-featured manbefore him.

  He