“And suppose he denounces you on leaving the house?”
“If only he will speak beforehand he will have plenty of time to say what he wishes afterwards.”
Lichtenbach shuddered. He felt that Hans had made up his mind to kill Marcel Baradier, and that the bandit was pursuing a double end: possession of the secret, and revenge for his mutilation.
“For the future,” he said, “I will have nothing more to do with your actions, in which I repudiate all share. I do not wish even to know the result of your attempt. You seem to have gone mad!”
“Ah! don’t think we ever relied on you for anything else than an advance of funds?” said Count Cesare, jeeringly. “To us you have been the hen which laid the golden eggs; now that you have stopped laying, go your own way!”
“No tricks with us, Lichtenbach,” said Hans. “If we succeed, the Dalgetty patent will have its full effect, you know; consequently you will share in the profits. What you say now is only another instance of your hypocrisy; you reject the responsibility, but are willing to accept the profits. Very well, my friend, you shall have them!”
They had reached the spot where Lichtenbach’s carriage stood. Agostini gracefully opened the door, saying—
“Good night, my prince, pleasant dreams!”
Meanwhile, M. Mayeur had acted in accordance with information received from Baudoin and Colonel Vallenot. For a week now he had known the details of Count Cesare’s life. Of very good birth, belonging to an illustrious family, Signor Agostini had been obliged to leave the Italian army after an affair of honour.
Concerning Hans, nothing could be discovered. The Baroness had been tracked, through Agostini, to her rooms in the Boulevard Maillot. The hotel had been let furnished. She lived very quietly, under the name of Madame de Frilas. M. Mayeur had sent an intelligent agent to the Baron Grodsko at Nice, and obtained from him full information concerning her.