“I am not paying for your report, it is plain, but for your bringing us,” said the conspirator.
“That I can accept. Thank you,” he said, taking the coin, “I need not work any more to-day.”
He drove away, leaving Gilbert amazed at what he had witnessed, and he crossed the threshold reeling like a tipsy man.
He knew this house from having traversed it years ago under impressive circumstances; little was changed in it, even to the same servant Fritz, only he had aged sixteen years.
Ushered into a sitting room, the count bade his guest take a seat.
“I am entirely yours, doctor,” said he.
The younger man forgot his present curiosity in the memories evoked by this room. Cagliostro looked at him like Mephistopheles regarding Faust in his brown studies.
“This room seems to set you thinking, doctor,” he said audibly.
“It does, of the obligations I am under to you.”
“Pooh, bubbles!”