"But," purred the Baron, "why seek a keyhole?"
Themar's dark face was ashen.
Philip, with a wholesome distaste for scenes, slipped away.
"Excellency," burst forth Themar passionately as the door closed, "it is unfair—"
The Baron raised his hand in a gesture of warning.
"Permit me, Themar," he said coldly as the sound of Philip's footsteps died away, "permit me to remind you that my secretary is quite unaware of our peculiar relations. He is laboring at present under the necessary delusion that your arrival here was entirely the result of my fastidious distaste for the personal services of anyone but a fellow countryman. Presumably I had cabled home for you. I prefer," he added, "that he continue to think so."
Themar's eyes flashed resentfully.
"Excellency," he said sullenly, "it is unfair that I am denied the knowledge of detail that I need. That is why I sought to read the cipher."
"And yet, Themar," said the Baron softly, "I fancy Ronador has told you—something—enough!" He shrugged, his impenetrable eyes narrowing slowly. "But that I need you," he said evenly, "but that your knowledge of English makes you an invaluable ally—and one not easily replaced—I would send you back to Houdania—disgraced! As it is, we are hedged about with peculiar difficulties and I must use—and watch you."
He glanced significantly at the desk drawer and thence to Themar's dark, unscrupulous face, resentful and defiant.