“So would I, Madame; even life.” There was a tremor of passion in his voice, but she appeared not to notice it. “Here is a nook out of the lights; we may talk here with safety.”
“And what is the news?” she asked.
“This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found. Listen,” and his voice fell into a whisper.
“Austria?” Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together in excitement. “Is it true?”
“Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight. Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere. The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me, and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy were it not for the archbishop.”
“The archbishop?” contemptuously.
“Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that I would give ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts. He has some project; apparently he gives his whole time to the king. He loves this weak man Leopold; he has sacrificed the red hat for him, for the hat would have taken him to Italy, as we who procured it intended it should.”
“The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. That is the news I have for you.”
“You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard to the rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?”
“It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions.”