“Monsieur, it may be you have alarmed yourself needlessly. There is a chance that you have not been selected as a victim.”
“A chance—yes. But you must remember that I am marked as a friend of Dreyfus. It would be most natural that I had been selected to fall by the Black Brothers.”
“I understand your feeling in the matter, and I admire your nerve. Still, I hope you may live to see Dreyfus given a fair and open trial.”
Laforce was about to speak in reply to this, when he was again seized by the pains in his heart, and this time they seemed to overcome him for some moments. Frank arose in agitation, proposing to call for a physician, but the duke restrained him with a gesture.
“I shall see my doctor as soon as possible,” he said in a faint voice.
“I believe you need medical aid at once.”
“If it is the doom of the Black Brothers, medicine will not save me! I fear it may be! Who can tell? Wait, and listen. I have in my possession something that may prove the innocence of Dreyfus. If I should die suddenly, it must not be found upon me, for it would be sure to fall into wrong hands. You claim to have sympathy with Dreyfus, and I wish you to do me a favor.”
“What favor?”
The duke again felt in his pocket, producing a metal ball somewhat larger than an ordinary marble. For a moment he exposed it to Frank, and then he hid it in his hand.
“This,” he half whispered, “holds what may some day prove poor Dreyfus innocent. I am going to give it into your keeping till to-morrow night at this hour, when I will meet you here, and accept it from you—if I am living!”