Julien was startled, Lady Anne incredulous.
"I do not believe," the former declared, "that Madame Christophor intends any such act of inhospitality."
"As to that," Falkenberg replied pleasantly, "my wife will be here herself in a few moments. You shall hear what she has to say from her own lips. You must remember that I have paid a price. I have given up the guardianship of my son. You yourself," he continued, looking steadfastly at Julien, "may know if any other cause exists likely to have influenced my wife in granting my request."
Julien set his teeth, but he did not flinch.
"What is it that you want with me, Prince Falkenberg?" he demanded. "Another brutal attempt at massacre? I owe you this," he added, raising his bandaged arm. "Do you imagine that you can continue to use the methods of other generations with impunity? The thing is absurd. There are too many who know already the secret of Herr Freudenberg, maker of toys! There are too many who will know, also, before long, the secret of the explosion in the Rue de Montpelier!"
Falkenberg nodded gravely.
"I understand," he admitted. "One moves, of course, always, with the knife at one's heart. Yet, until now, I, personally, am safe. Another man dies to-night, even as we talk here, and confesses himself guilty of the Rue de Montpelier affair. But let that pass. We have crossed swords, Sir Julien, and I frankly admit, although I have gained my end to-night, that I am worsted. The money I spent to purchase Le Jour has been thrown away. The months of careful intrigue, the sacrifices and efforts I have made to destroy the entente, have been rendered almost futile by your diabolical pen. Very well, for what you have done I will accept defeat—I will accept defeat without malice. But there is the future."
"What of it?" Julien asked.
"I do not intend," Falkenberg declared, in a low, firm tone, "to have you back, a member of any English Government. I prefer Carraby and such as he."
"You flatter me!" Julien remarked grimly.