Baron had been
badly scared, and lacked the manhood to conceal his panic.

"Ah! Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" he gasped again, and looked at me with
insolent inquiry. He was, it must be remembered, a very rich man, and
could afford to be ill-mannered. "I must see you, Vicomte."

"You do see me, my friend," replied the old nobleman, in his most
amiable manner. "And at your service."

"But--" and the fluttering handkerchief indicated myself.

"Ah! Let me introduce you. Monsieur Howard, my secretary--the Baron
Giraud."

I bowed as one only bows to money-bags, and the Baron stared at me.
Only very rich or very high-born persons fully understand the
introductory stare.

"You may speak before Monsieur Howard," said the Baron, quietly. "He
is not a secretary _pour rire_."

Had Miste been a secretary _pour rire_, I wondered?

I drew forward a chair and begged the Baron to be seated. He accepted
my invitation coldly, and seating himself seemed to lose nothing in
stature. There are some men who should always be seated. It is, of
course, a mistake to judge of one's neighbour at first sight, but it
seemed to me that the Baron Giraud only wanted a little courage to be
a first-class scoundrel. He fumbled in his pocket, glancing furtively
at me the while. At length he found a letter, which he handed to the
Vicomte.

"I have received that," he said. "It is anonymous, as you will see,
and cleverly done. There is absolutely no clue. It was sent to my
place of business, and my people there telegraphed for me in Provence.
Of course I came at once. One must sacrifice everything to affairs."

Naturally I acquiesced fervently, for the last remark had been thrown
to me for my good.

The Vicomte was looking for his spectacles.

"But, my friend," he said, "it is atrociously written. One cannot
decipher such a scrawl as this."

In his impatience the Baron leant forward, and taking the paper from
my patron, handed it to me.

"Here," he said, "the secretary--read it aloud."

Nothing loth, I read the communication in my loudest voice. The world
holds that a loud voice indicates honesty or a lack of brain, and the
Baron was essentially of that world. The anonymous letter was a
warning that a general rising against the rule of the Emperor was
imminent, and that in view of the probable state of anarchy that would
ensue, wise men should not delay in transferring their wealth to more
stable countries. Precisely--in a word--the information that