so sure shall rise that red spectre we call the
Internationale."

The man astonished me. He put into words a prophecy which had haunted
me from the day that war was declared--a prophetic fear which had
haunted men higher up in the service of the Empire--thinking men who
knew what war meant to a country whose government was as rotten as its
army was unprepared, whose political chiefs were as vain, incompetent,
ignorant, and weak as were the chiefs of its brave army--an army
riddled with politics, weakened by intrigue and neglect--an army used
ignobly, perverted, cheated, lied to, betrayed, abandoned.

That, for once, Buckhurst spoke the truth as he foresaw it, I did not
question. That he was right in his infernal calculations, I was
fearsomely persuaded. And now the game had advanced, and I must
display what cards I had, or pretended to have.

"Are you trying to bribe me?" I blurted out, weakly.

"Bribe you," he repeated, in contempt. "No. If the prospect does not
please you, I have only to say a word to the provost marshal."

"Wouldn't that injure your prospects with the Countess?" I said, with
fat-brained cunning. "You cannot betray me and hope for her
friendship."

He glanced up at me, measured my mental capacity, then nodded.

"I can't force you that way," he admitted.

"He's bound to get to Paradise. Why?" I wondered, and said, aloud:

"What do you want of me?"

"I want immunity from the secret police, Mr. Scarlett."

"Where?"

"Wherever I may be."

"In Morbihan?"

"Yes."

"In Paradise?"

"Yes."

I was silent for a moment, then, looking him in the eye, "What do I
gain?"

Ah, the cat was out now. Buckhurst did not move, but I saw the muscles
of his face relax, and he drew a deep, noiseless breath.

"Well," he said, coolly, "you may keep those diamonds, for one
thing."

Presently I said, "And for the next thing?"

"You are high-priced, Mr. Scarlett," he observed.

"Oh, very," I said, with that offensive, swaggering menace in my
voice which is peculiar to the weak criminal the world over.

So I asserted myself and scowled at him and told him I was no fool and
taunted him with my importance to his schemes and said I was not born
yesterday, and that if Paris was to be divided I knew what part I
wanted and meant to stand no nonsense from him or anybody.

All of which justified the opinion he had already formed of me, and
justified something else, too--his faith in his own eloquence, logic,