"You had my letter?" de Grost inquired.
"I had your letter," the other admitted. "It told me nothing. You speak of business. What business have I with any here?"
"My business is soon told," de Grost replied; "but in the first place, I beg that you will not unnecessarily alarm yourself. There is, believe me, no need for it—no need whatever, although, to prevent misunderstandings, I may as well tell you at once that I am perfectly well aware who it is that I am addressing."
Hagon collapsed into a chair. He buried his face in his hands and groaned.
"I am not here necessarily as an enemy," de Grost continued. "You have very excellent reasons, I make no doubt, for remaining unknown in this city, or wherever you may be. As yet, let me assure you, your identity is not even suspected, except by myself and one other. Those few who believe you alive believe that you are in America. There is no need for anyone to know that Father——"
"Stop!" the man begged piteously. "Stop!"
De Grost bowed.
"I beg your pardon!" he said.
"Now tell me," the man demanded, "what is your price? I have had money. There is not much left. Sophia is extravagant, and travelling costs a great deal. But why do I weary you with these things?" he added. "Let me know what I have to pay for your silence."
"I am not a blackmailer," de Grost answered sternly. "I am myself a wealthy man. I ask from you nothing in money; I ask you nothing in that way at all. A few words of information, and a certain paper which I believe you have in your possession, is all that I require."