“If your lordship pleases?”
“Well,” continued Sartines, fixing on the other an eye which he endeavored to make like an inquisitor’s, “he is a man of your age and stature, and bearing; sometimes a mighty nobleman distributing gold, or a charlatan seeking natural secrets, or a dark conspirator allied to the mysterious brotherhood which has vowed in darkness the death of kings and the downfall of thrones.”
“This is vague,” replied Balsamo, “and you cannot guess how many men I have met who would answer to this description! You will have to be more precise if you want my help. In the first place, which is his country by preference?”
“He lives everywhere at home.”
“But at present?”
“In France, where he directs a vast conspiracy.”
“This is a good piece of intelligence. If you know what conspiracy he directs you have one end of a clew in your hands which will lead you up to the man.”
“I am of your opinion.”
“If you believe so, why do you ask my advice? It is useless.”
“It is because I am debating whether or not to arrest him.”