The old man leaned upon the table heavily.
“That amiable Francis—”
“The suggestion is not dismaying. Francis would not know an opportunity if it offered.”
“But his mother—she is the devil!” blurted the old man.
“Pray drop that,” said Armitage in a tone that caused the old man to look at him with a new scrutiny. “I want the paper back for the very reason that it contains that awful indictment of her. I have been uncomfortable ever since I gave it to you; and I came to ask you for it that I might keep it safe in my own hands. But the document is lost,—am I to understand that Francis has it?”
“Not yet! But Rambaud has it, and Rambaud and Francis are as thick as thieves.”
“I don’t know Rambaud. The name is unfamiliar.”
“He has a dozen names—one for every capital. He even operates in Washington, I have heard. He’s a blackmailer, who aims high—a broker in secrets, a scandal-peddler. He’s a bad lot, I tell you. I’ve had my best men after him, and they’ve just been here to report another failure. If you have nothing better to do—” began the old man.
“Yes; that packet must be recovered,” answered Armitage. “If your agents have failed at the job it may be worth my while to look for it.”
His quiet acceptance of the situation irritated the minister.