"Well, you belong to me for a month, you know, by our agreement. After that you may consider what you please. In the meantime be true to me; and not one word, if you please, of me or my concerns to anybody."
"Certainly, Monsieur. I shall be found a man of honour now as always."
"I have no doubt, Jacques; as I told you, I know you to be a gentleman—I rely upon you."
M. Varbarriere looked rather grimly into his eye as he uttered this compliment; and when the polite little gentleman had left the room, M. Varbarriere bethought him how very little he had to betray—how little he knew about him, his nephew, and his plans; and although he would not have liked his inquiries to be either baulked or disclosed, he could yet mentally snap his fingers at Monsieur.
CHAPTER XXVII.
M. Varbarriere talks a little more freely.
After his valet left him, M. Varbarriere did not descend, but remained in his dressing-room, thinking profoundly; and, after a while, he opened his pocket-book, and began to con over a number of figures, and a diagram to which these numbers seemed to refer.
Sometimes standing at the window, at others pacing the floor, and all the time engrossed by a calculation, like a man over a problem in mathematics.
For two or three minutes he had been thus engaged when Guy Strangways entered the room.