“It is true, monsieur,” Emil admitted. “A lady who also possessed the yellow crayon came here the day that—that monsieur incurred the displeasure of—of his friends. She tried to bribe me to blow up my laboratory and leave the country, or that I should substitute a harmless powder for any required by the Prince. I was obliged to refuse.”
“And then?”
“Then she promised me a large sum if you were alive in six months, and made me at once a payment.
“Dear me,” Mr. Sabin said, “this is quite extraordinary.”
“I can tell monsieur the lady’s name,” Emil continued, “for she raised her veil, and everywhere the illustrated papers have been full of her picture. It was the lady who was besieged in a little town of South Africa, and who carried despatches for the general, disguised as a man.”
“Lady Carey!” Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.
“That was the lady’s name,” Emil agreed.
Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a few moments. Then he looked up.
“Emil Sachs,” he said sternly, “you have given out at least one portion of your abominable concoction which is meant to end my days. Whether I shall escape it or not remains to be seen. I am forced at the best to discharge my servant, and to live the life of a hunted man. Now you have done enough mischief in the world. To-morrow morning a messenger will place in your hands two hundred pounds. A larger sum will await you at Baring’s Bank in New York. You will go there and buy a small restaurant in the business quarter. This is your last chance, Emil. I give it to you for the sake of Annette.”
“And I accept it, monsieur, with gratitude.”