He threw up his hands.
"You have made me forget that in the excellent discretion with which you have since justified my confidence. I have indeed done you less than justice."
"The Countess thinks that, together, we should make a strong combination."
"You must not go to her, Miss Gilmore—unless at least——"
He paused, but I had no difficulty in completing his sentence.
"That is my view, also—unless at least I come to an understanding with you beforehand. It will help that understanding if I tell you that I am in no way dependent upon my work for my living. I am an American, as I have told you, but not a poor one; and my motive in all this has no sort of connexion with money. As money is reckoned here, I am already a sufficiently rich woman."
"You continue to surprise me. Yet you spoke of—of a recompense for your services?"
"I am a volunteer—for the present. I shall no doubt seek a return some time; but as yet, it will be enough for me to work for your Government; to go my own way, to use my own methods, and to rely only upon you where I may need the machinery at your disposal. My success shall be my own. If I succeed, the benefits will be yours; if I fail, you will be at liberty to disavow all connexion between us."
He sat thinking over these unusual terms so long that I had to dig in the spur.
"The Countess d'Artelle is a more dangerous woman than you seem at present to appreciate. She is the secret agent of her Government. She has not told me that, or I should not tell it to you; but I know it. Should I serve your Government or hers? The choice is open to me."