“I am to blame for this, Maitland, for I ordered him to come over here, as the most certain of all ways of seeing you.”
“And he is here now?”
“Yes. Arrived last night In the hope of your arrival, I gave him a rendezvous here—any hour from ten to one or two to-night—and we shall soon see him.”
“I must confess, I don't care how brief the interview be: the man is not at all to my liking.”
“You are not likely to be much bored by him here, at least.”
“How do you mean?”
“The police are certain to hear of his arrival, and to give him a friendly hint to arrange his private affairs with all convenient despatch and move off.”
“With what party or section do they connect him?”
“With how many? you might perhaps ask; for I take it he has held office with every shade of opinion, and intrigued for any cause from Henry V. to the reddest republicanism. The authorities, however, always deal with a certain courtesy to a man of this sort. They intimate, simply, We are aware you are here,—we know pretty well for what; and so don't push us to any disagreeable measures, but cross over into Belgium or Switzerland. M'Caskey himself told me he was recognized as he drew up at the hotel, and, in consequence, thinks he shall have to go on in a day or two.”
“Is not the fellow's vanity in some measure a reason for this? Does he not rather plume himself on being l'homme dangereux to all Europe?”