"Now," he continued, "here is a list of the shares in which I have invested your money. All good, solid English securities. Take it. Our lawyer has all the bonds and scrip. I am taking them with me to England. My address will be Long's Hotel, in Bond Street, London. What do you propose to do? Follow me there, or remain in France?"
"First of all," I replied, "why are you going like this? Nothing is threatening France——"
"Oho!" said my guardian. "And where have you been studying politics? Down amongst the rabbits at Saluce?"
"I read the papers."
"Just so, and I read the times. I have been reading them for fifty-seven years. But that is not all. Patrique, do you know that we have a mysterious friend, who interests himself in our affairs?"
"I was unaware of the fact."
"Well, the fact remains. Now, what I am going to tell you is very secret. I cannot even give you the name of our informant, as I am pledged to an oath of secrecy. But the news has come to me through the German Foreign Office. News has come to me that France is in vital danger." He rose, trembling with excitement. "News has come to me that a thunderbolt is going to fall on France, not from heaven, but from there—from there! from there!" He almost shouted the words, pointing with a shaking finger in a direction which I took to indicate Germany.
I have never seen anything more dramatic than the Vicomte's gesture—the shaking hand, the intense expression, the fire in his old eyes, as he stood with one hand grasping the dressing-gown about him, as a Roman might have grasped his toga, the other pointing to the visionary enemy.
Then he sank back in his chair.