“Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, they stop at nothing, not even at that infinitesimal minutiae called the spark of life. It becomes a matter of self-preservation. I am in too deep water; I must keep on. I can not now turn back; the first shore is too far away.”
“Even villainy has its inconveniences,” Maurice observed.
“What do you call villainy?”
“An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for another. That is villainy, without a single saving grace, for you are a native neither of the kingdom nor the duchy.”
“That is plain language. You do not take into consideration the villain's motives. There may be certain ends necessary as his life's blood, which may be gained only by villainy, which, after all, is a hard name for political conspiracy.”
“Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it appeals to me as rather a small, unmanly game when your victims are a man who is dying and a girl who knows nothing of the world nor its treachery.”
An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. “So her Highness has captured your sympathies?” with a shade of banter.
“I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who has a good pair of eyes in his head. But you do not seem to be in favor just at present,” banter for banter.
The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. “What is to be your stand in this affair?”
“Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed my word to Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I shall abide by it. That is not to say that my sympathies are not wholly with the Osians. Madame is a brilliant woman, resourceful, initiative; she has as many sides as a cut diamond; moreover, her cause is just. But I do not like the way she has gone about the recovery of her throne. She has broken, or will break, a fine honest heart; she tried to break another, but, not being above the pantry maid, the subject of her attention failed to appreciate the consideration.”