“You have convinced me,” he said at last. “You have taught me how to look upon European politics with new eyes. But there remains one important question. Supposing I break off my negotiations in other quarters, are you willing to pay my price?”
The Ambassador waved his hand! It was a trifle!
“If what you give fulfils your own statements,” he said, “you cannot ask a price which my master would not pay!”
Mr. Sabin moved a little in his chair. His eyes were bright. A faint tinge of colour was in his olive cheeks.
“Four years of my life,” he said, “have been given to the perfecting of one branch only of my design; the other, which is barely completed, is the work of the only man in England competent to handle such a task. The combined result will be infallible. When I place in your hands a simple roll of papers and a small parcel, the future of this country is absolutely and entirely at your mercy. That is beyond question or doubt. To whomsoever I give my secret, I give over the destinies of England. But the price is a mighty one!”
“Name it,” the Ambassador said quietly. “A million, two millions? Rank? What is it?”
“For myself,” Mr. Sabin said, “nothing!”
The other man started. “Nothing!”
“Absolutely nothing!”
The Ambassador raised his hand to his forehead.