which
the Emperor did not contemplate--perhaps would have forbidden."

Delcasse's eyes were glowing with an infernal joy.

"That does not matter," he said. "That was because his hand was forced.
It is the Emperor who is responsible--it is a risk he took. If he chose
his instrument badly, it is he who must suffer for it. You permit me to
retain this paper?"

"Certainly. Use it as you think best for France!"

Delcasse was out of his chair, striding up and down the room.

"So the wheel has turned!" he cried. "You may not remember it, M.
Crochard--to you it may have seemed a small thing--but six years ago,
the Emperor caused me to be driven from the foreign office because I did
and said certain things which displeased him. Such was his power even
here in Paris! You will scarcely credit it, but so it was. And now it is
my turn! With this in my hand, all things are possible! He must have
been mad to put his hand to such a paper--but, after all, it does not
astonish me. He is always doing mad things; he has no balance, no
self-control. Ten years ago, with an imprudent telegram, he almost
plunged his country into war with England--and at a moment, too, when it
was wholly unprepared! Two years ago, a wild speech of his brought
Germany to the brink of revolution. Last year, he nearly upset his
empire by an indiscreet interview which was suppressed just in time. He
is always in hot water, but heretofore his good fortune has been
amazing. He has always succeeded in extricating himself. This time, it
seems, he has tempted the gods once too often----the game is in our
hands. Our ultimatum I will prepare to-day, and I will invite to my
office the German ambassador, and I will hand him that ultimatum, and I
will say certain things to him which have long been biting at my throat
for utterance, and then I will give him a glimpse of this document, and
finally I will send him away. Ah, there will be consternation at Berlin
to-night!" Suddenly Delcasse stopped in front of Crochard's chair. "My
friend," he said, in another tone, "you have saved France. You must name
your own reward. I grant it, before you ask it."

"Well, yes," said Crochard, smiling, "I shall not refuse. At Toulon, on
the quay opposite the spot where lies the wreck of _La Liberte_, a
friend of mine conducts a cafe. It was he who noticed the two
Germans--it was he who gave me my first clue. So he deserves a reward on
his own account. He is an honest man, who has suffe