"In Paris?" I asked, not quite sure that Monsieur le Grand was King Louis of France, and not desiring to know certainly.
"In Paris," he answered, giving me to understand by his manner that he must tell me nothing more definite of Le Grand's identity.
"Don't tell me what you know of the business this letter refers to, but tell me whether you know," I said, hoping that George might at least tell me it meant good fortune for him.
"I cannot even conjecture the business upon which I am wanted," he said, "but I hope that it may give me an opportunity to be of service to the writer."
Thus I was relieved of the disagreeable task of trying to induce George to leave England, and was very thankful to escape it.
After a long silence, during which he read the one-line letter many times, he asked:—
"Are you willing to bring Frances to me early to-morrow morning, if she will come?"
"Doubtless I can," I answered. "Her willingness to come has been shown all too plainly of late; but ought I bring her?"
"Yes. It will be the last time I shall ever see her unless good fortune lies in this letter, and for that I hardly dare hope. You know that when a man's luck has been against him for a long time, it kills the very roots of hope and brings him almost to doubt certainty. Soon after I have seen my friend, Le Grand, I shall write to you in cipher, of which I shall leave you the key. If I see a prospect of fortune worthy of Frances, I shall ask her to wait a time for me, but if my ill fortune pursues me, I shall never again be heard from by any one in England. Are you satisfied with the conditions?"
I gave him my hand for answer, and told him I would bring Frances to him early the following morning.