“Indeed! Who has been informing you?”
“A relation of mine, the Very Reverend Monsignor Boldi, whom I saw in Paris a few days ago. Lichtenbach, in addition to his wealth, is a church trustee. I no longer wonder at the influence he wields. He has the disposal of immense sums, and of almost limitless power. But he is not a man of action. He is always hesitating and trembling. Had you seen how terrified he was when I alluded to his position as a kind of ecclesiastical banker, you would have laughed outright. Ah! cara, his brow was covered with perspiration. Whatever can he be afraid of?”
“From his constituents, nothing. From you, everything. That he doubtless guessed at once.”
“Oh! Mon Dieu! All that trouble for such a trifle! A mere bagatelle of forty thousand francs. That cursed baccarat! But Lichtenbach never plays, except on the Bourse. And there he always wins!”
“Question!”
“Ah! Can he, too, be cursed with bad luck?”
“We are now doing our best to arrange matters so that he may have nothing but good luck!”
“The powder affair?”
“Yes. Listen, what is that?”
A sound was heard outside. Taking from a cupboard a small revolver, she slipped it into her pocket, and said—“Are you armed?”