it had
been decided to withhold from the recipient of the letter.

[Illustration: THE BARON BLEW AND PUFFED LIKE A PRIZE-FIGHTER WHEN I
HAD FINISHED THE PERUSAL. "THERE," HE CRIED; "I RECEIVE A LETTER LIKE
THAT--I, THE BARON GIRAUD--OF THE HIGH FINANCE."]

The Baron blew and puffed like a prize-fighter when I had finished the
perusal.

"There," he cried; "I receive a letter like that--I, the Baron
Giraud--of the high finance."

"My poor friend, calm yourself," urged the Vicomte.

It is easy enough to tell another to calm himself, but who among us
can compass such a frame of mind when he is hit in a vital spot? The
Baron wiped his forehead nervously.

"But," he said, "is it true?"

The Vicomte spread out his hands, and never glanced at me as an
ordinary man would have done towards one who shared his knowledge.

"Who can tell--but yes! So far as human foresight goes--it is true
enough."

"Then what am I to do?"

I stared at the great financier asking such a question. Assuredly he,
of all men, needed no one's counsel in a matter of money.

"Do as I have done," said the Vicomte; "send your money out of the
country."

An odd look came over the Baron's face. He glanced from one of us to
the other--with the cunning, and somewhat the look, of a cat. The
Vicomte was blandly indifferent. As for me, I had, I am told, a hard
face in those days--hardened by weather and a disbelief in human
nature which has since been modified.

"It is a responsibility that you take there," said the financier.

"I take no responsibility. A man of my years, of my retired life,
knows little of such matters." (I thought he looked older as he
spoke.) "I only tell you what I have done with my small possessions."

The Baron shook his head with a sly scepticism. After all, the
cheapest cunning must suffice for money-making, for I dare swear this
man had little else.

"But how?" he said.

"In bank notes, by hand," was the Vicomte's astonishing answer. And
the Baron laughed incredulously. It seems that the highest aim of the
high finance is to catch your neighbour telling the truth by accident.
It would almost be safe to tell the truth always, so rarely is it
recognised.

It was not until the Vicomte produced his bankbook and showed the
amounts paid in and subsequently withdrawn that the Baron Giraud
believed what he had been told. My duties, it may be well to mention
in passing, had no part in the expenditure of the Vicomte de Cleri