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"Simply that a verbatim copy of the doc.u.ment in question will be dispatched to Berlin to-morrow evening without fail," replied the amba.s.sador.
"There are no secrets between us," Peter declared, smoothly. "What is the special importance of this doc.u.ment?"
De Lamborne shrugged his shoulders.
"Since you ask," he said, "I tell you. You know of the slight coolness which there has been between our respective Governments? Our people have felt that the policy of your Ministers in expending all their energies and resources in the building of a great fleet, to the utter neglect of your army, is a wholly one-sided arrangement, so far as we are concerned. In the event of a simultaneous attack by Germany upon France and England, you would be utterly powerless to render us any measure of a.s.sistance. If Germany should attack England alone, it is the wish of your Government that we should be pledged to occupy Alsace-Lorraine.
You, on the other hand, could do nothing for us if Germany's first move were made against France."
Peter was deeply interested, although the matter was no new one to him.
"Go on," he directed. "I am waiting for you to tell me the specific contents of this doc.u.ment."
"The English Government has asked us two questions; first, how many complete army corps we consider she ought to place at our disposal in this eventuality; and, secondly, at what point should we expect them to be concentrated? The dispatch which I received to-night contains the reply to these questions."
"Which Bernadine has promised to forward to Berlin to-morrow night,"
Peter remarked softly.
De Lamborne nodded.
"You perceive," he said, "the immense importance of the affair. The very existence of that doc.u.ment is almost a _casus belli_."
"At what time did the dispatch arrive," Peter asked, "and what has been its history since?"
"It arrived at six o'clock," the amba.s.sador declared. "It went straight into the inner pocket of my coat; it has not been out of my possession for a single second. Even whilst I talk to you I can feel it."
"And your plans? How are you intending to dispose of it to-night?"
"On my return to the Emba.s.sy I shall place it in the safe, lock it up, and remain watching it until morning."
"There doesn't seem to be much chance for Bernadine," Peter remarked.
"But there must be no chance--no chance at all," Monsieur de Lamborne a.s.serted, with a note of pa.s.sion in his thin voice. "It is incredible, preposterous, that he should even make the attempt. I want you to come home with me and share my vigil. You shall be my witness in case anything happens. We will watch together."
Peter reflected for a moment.
"Bernadine makes few mistakes," he said thoughtfully.
Monsieur de Lamborne pa.s.sed his hand across his forehead.
"Do I not know it?" he muttered. "In this instance, though, it seems impossible for him to succeed. The time is so short and the conditions so difficult. I may count upon your a.s.sistance, Baron?"
Peter drew from his pocket a crumpled piece of paper.
"I received a telegram from headquarters this evening," he said, "with instructions to place myself entirely at your disposal."
"You will return with me, then, to the Emba.s.sy?" Monsieur de Lamborne asked eagerly.
Peter did not at once reply. He was standing in one of his characteristic att.i.tudes, his hands clasped behind him, his head a little thrust forward, watching with every appearance of courteous interest the roomful of guests, stationary just now, listening to the performance of a famous violinist. It was, perhaps, by accident that his eyes met those of Madame de Lamborne, but she smiled at him subtly--more, perhaps, with her wonderful eyes than with her lips themselves. She was the centre of a very brilliant group, a most beautiful woman holding court, as was only right and proper, amongst her admirers. Peter sighed.
"No," he said, "I shall not return with you, de Lamborne. I want you to follow my suggestions, if you will."
"But, a.s.suredly----"
"Leave here early and go to your club. Remain there until one, then come to the Emba.s.sy. I shall be there awaiting your arrival."
"You mean that you will go there alone? I do not understand," the amba.s.sador protested. "Why should I go to my club? I do not at all understand!"
"Nevertheless, do as I say," Peter insisted. "For the present, excuse me. I must look after my guests."
The music had ceased, there was a movement towards the supper room.
Peter offered his arm to Madame de Lamborne, who welcomed him with a brilliant smile. Her husband, although, for a Frenchman, he was by no means of a jealous disposition, was conscious of a vague feeling of uneasiness as he watched them pa.s.s out of the room together. A few minutes later he made his excuses to his wife, and, with a reluctance for which he could scarcely account, left the house. There was something in the air, he felt, which he did not understand. He would not have admitted it to himself, but he more than half divined the truth. The vacant seat in his wife's carriage was filled that night by the Baron de Grost.
At one o'clock precisely Monsieur de Lamborne returned to his house, and found de Grost gazing with obvious respect at the ponderous safe let into the wall.
"A very fine affair--this," he remarked, motioning with his head towards it.
"The best of its kind," Monsieur de Lamborne admitted. "No burglar yet has ever succeeded in opening one of its type. Here is the packet," he added, drawing the doc.u.ment from his pocket. "You shall see me place it in safety."
Peter stretched out his hand and examined the sealed envelope for a moment closely. Then he moved to the writing-table, and, placing it upon the letter scales, made a note of its exact weight. Finally he watched it deposited in the ponderous safe, suggested the word to which the lock was set, and closed the door. Monsieur de Lamborne heaved a sigh of relief.
"I fancy this time," he said, "that our friends at Berlin will be disappointed. Couch or easy-chair, Baron?"
"The couch, if you please," Peter replied, "a strong cigar, and a long whisky and soda. So! Now for our vigil."
The hours crawled away. Once Peter sat up and listened.
"Any rats about?" he inquired.
The amba.s.sador was indignant.
"I have never heard one in my life," he answered. "This is quite a modern house."
Peter dropped his match-box and stooped to pick it up.
"Any lights on anywhere except in this room?" he asked.
"Certainly not," Monsieur de Lamborne answered. "It is past three o'clock, and every one has gone to bed."
Peter rose and softly unbolted the door. The pa.s.sage outside was in darkness. He listened intently for a moment, and returned yawning.
"One fancies things," he murmured apologetically.
"For example?" de Lamborne demanded.
Peter shook his head.