"You know our relationship with Russia?"
"The pretty girl with inviting graces to a gallant who hesitates."
"Precisely," he answered, in a tone of appreciation at my simile; "but the pretty girl's love-letters are being opened."
"Humiliating."
"More than that," he cried, impetuously; "detrimental to me. Three times in the past month has the most secret cipher of the government been changed, because identical with the receipt of our message by Russia its import has become public property in the capitals of Europe."
"Then, ineffectually changed," I observed.
"Utterly. I have just left Count Zarfine, the Russian Ambassador, and he has dared to imply, in almost undiplomatic language, that his government suspects us of trifling. Mon Dieu!" Monsieur Roché cried in an awe-stricken voice; "trifling with Russia!"
"Who holds this cipher?"
"Myself and Count Zarfine. When it is changed the new cipher is sent to St. Petersburg by him direct to the Minister, and the documents by me, through the diplomatic departments. We have varied the cipher three times, we have sent different messengers each time, but the result has always been the same. The world learned the message at once, and we are fast becoming the laughing-stock of Europe, for the pretty girl is ready to offer so much for alliance."
"And the Count could not help you, mon ami?"