“To tell you the truth, Herr Count, I only wish it would please His Excellency to transfer him elsewhere.”
The stranger paused a moment, and then said in a low but very distinct voice:—
“Supposing, Colonel Bernhard, that you were yourself transferred—shall we say to Königsberg? Would you prefer it to Brühl?”
“Königsberg!” exclaimed my father in a tone of profound amazement.
“The appointment, I believe, is worth six hundred thalers a year more than Brühl,” said the stranger.
“But it has never been offered to me,” said my father, in his simple straightforward way. “Of course I should prefer it—but what of that? And what has Königsberg to do with Monsieur Maurice?”
“Ah, true—Monsieur Maurice! Well, to return then to Monsieur Maurice—how would it be, do you think, somewhat to relax the present vigilance?”
“To relax it?”
“To leave a door or a window unguarded now and then, for instance. In short, to—to provide certain facilities ... you understand?”
“Facilities?” exclaimed my father, incredulously. “Facilities for escape?”