"I am resolved to satisfy myself," I returned; and for a reason that I kept to myself I rather liked the idea of what he had said.
After a pause he continued:
"Roughly, what I propose is this: I will take you round to introduce you to the more prominent men—in particular to Baron Heckscher, who is really the leader of us; and then we will have a meeting at my rooms, where everything can be explained and settled. What say you?"
"I agree; but of course I reserve my right to take any other step I may think necessary that suggests itself to me."
"Naturally, naturally!" he exclaimed. "Now that the Prince has gone we are only too glad to have a cautious, calculating head to take his part."
The words were as false as the man. I read it in his tone and manner; and he was far more ready to curse me, had he dared, for my profession of caution. But I pressed it, because I knew that this exaggerated carefulness was the best evidence of my seeming sincerity.
A long silence followed, during which I weighed carefully all he had said. His manner in speaking of these details was tinged by a singular nervousness; he blurted out his points like a man who has been given a task which has overweighted him. And he suggested to me the condition of a poor actor who has had his part drilled into him by a subtler hand, and says his lesson badly.
Presently he began again:
"Of course you'll understand we are all putting ourselves into your hands and in your power in this matter; and the more so with every additional step we take." He was coming to another point in his lesson, I thought. "You will give me your solemn pledge not to divulge a single name you hear, nor a single fact that is told to you. If you'll do that now, I'll give you an outline of our plans at once."
"You can tell me as much or as little as you please. I pledge my honor to use nothing, except as the interest of my cousin may require—and that, I presume, is the intention of all concerned."