"And, of course, the thief is known already," I cried, disdainfully.
"Almost," he replied, with the first flash of enthusiasm he had manifested—"almost. On Wednesday we shall catch him in the very act. Of one thing we are certain. He moves in diplomatic circles, and knows that our final proposal will be made to Russia by the end of the week. On Wednesday morning I hand the new cipher to the Count, at night he despatches it, but in the hours that intervene the Countess will discover the thief. She suspects one of her husband's secretaries."
"You have enlisted a new and powerful ally, monsieur," with a jealous tremor in my voice.
"Tut, tut," he answered, mildly; "you are the ally I must have, for, frankly, I do not believe a word the Countess says."
"Then the saints be praised," I ejaculated; "you are not the simpleton that I feared you were. But you go too far, mon ami, for all is true excepting one thing, the name of the spy, and that is—"
"Let us be diplomatic," he interrupted, "until we are sure. Take the missing quantity X."
"Why not Z?" I replied, and then I own I started with slight surprise at the coincidence, for the Countess herself cantered up to the side of the carriage, and I took her proffered hand.
"I do not believe in Z," Monsieur Roché cried, raising his voice a little. "Zero cannot win the race, notwithstanding her distance allowance;" and then he looked up and bowed to the Countess Zarfine.
"I did not suspect diplomacy found recreation in horse-racing, monsieur," she exclaimed, with an arch smile.
"Age has its follies as well as youth," he answered, and then leaned anxiously towards her and whispered, "Any news?"