"Yes, that's right. Now we'll suppose that Faversham is the man, what would you regard as his weaknesses?"
"Pride, ambition, a love, almost amounting to a passion, for power," answered the little man quickly. "That would mean a longing for wealth, a craving for fame."
"And conscience?" queried the Count.
"He has a conscience," replied the little man; "a conscience which may be called healthily normal."
"Just so. Now I'll tell you something. I've placed wealth in his way, and he has rejected it for conscience sake. I've tempted him with power and fame, almost unlimited power and fame, and although he's seen the bait, he has not risen to it."
Polonius was silent for some time. Evidently he was thinking deeply; evidently, too, he saw something of what lay behind the Count's words, for he nodded his head sagely, and into his cunning eyes came a look of understanding.
"Of course you do not care to tell me why you want to make him your slave, body and soul?" he whispered.
"No!" the Count almost snarled. "No man may know that."
"You ask what I would do next?"
"Yes, I ask that."