"Does monsieur think I am a fool? No, no! And now my little errand for mademoiselle being finished—"
"You can do as Miss Dalrymple wishes, achieve an embarrassment of riches, and run no risk whatever yourself."
"Indeed?" Starting slightly.
"At least, no appreciable one." Mr. Heatherbloom explained his plan quickly. Francois listened, at first with open skepticism, then with growing interest.
"Mon Dieu! If it were possible!" he muttered. South-of-France imagination had again been appealed to. "But no—"
"Remember all the reward will be for you"—swiftly—"sufficient to buy vineyards and settle down for a life of peace and plenty—" Francois' eyes wavered; any Frenchman would have found the picture enticing. Already the beautiful American girl had, as Mr. Heatherbloom suspected, surreptitiously thrust several valuable jewels upon the youth as a reward for this preliminary service. Having experienced a foretaste of riches, Francois perhaps secretly longed for more of the glittering gems and for some of those American dollars which sounded five times as large in francs. Besides, this man, the great detective, or emissary, inspired confidence; his tones were vibrant, compelling.
"And for you, Monsieur?—the risk for you—" Francois faltered.
"Never mind about me. You consent?"
The other swallowed, muttered a monosyllable in a low tone.
"Then—" Heatherbloom murmured a few instructions. "Miss Dalrymple is not to know."