"Are you a servant of your country then? I thought you were a tradesman engaged in buying gloves."
Clyffurde smiled. "So I am," he said, "but even a tradesman may serve his country, if he has the opportunity."
"I hope that your country will be duly grateful," said Maurice, with a sigh. "I know that every royalist in France would thank you if they knew."
"By your leave, M. de St. Genis, no one in France need know anything but what you choose to tell them. . . ."
"You mean . . ."
"That except for reassuring M. le Comte de Cambray and . . . and Mlle. Crystal, there is no reason why they should ever know what passed between us in this room to-night."
"But if the King is to have the money, he . . ."
"He will never know from me, from whence it comes."
"He will wish to know. . . ."
"Come, M. de St. Genis," broke in Clyffurde, with a slight hint of impatience, "is it for me to tell you that Great Britain has more than one agent in France these days—that the money will reach His Majesty the King ultimately through the hands of his foreign minister M. le Comte de Jaucourt . . . and that my name will never appear in connection with the matter? . . . I am a mere servant of Great Britain—doing my duty where I can . . . nothing more."