“You must forget that and only remember what I have just read,” the Baron rejoined suavely.
“I fear that I do not understand your Excellency. As a man of honor I must tell the truth,” Bouvais said with quiet dignity.
“The exigencies of the service demand a little sacrifice. It is essential that Gaunt is confined in prison. Remember what is at stake, monsieur.”
“My honor is at stake and I remember that.”
“Don’t be foolish, mon cher Bouvais. We have a way of handsomely rewarding those who are zealous for our interests. If I remember your record, you were not quite so scrupulous in the Congo. As a minor official you got more than your quantum of rubber, and there were a few incidents in the collecting of it. There was the massacre of one village about which the missionaries made an outcry. They demanded your trial, and we protected you. It was not so very long ago that you were in charge of a district. Of course we denied that you were guilty of atrocities, but how many natives were killed when that chief rebelled? You wiped out many villages and——”
“They were only natives, and I did as I had been ordered. I did as my brother officials have done and are doing,” Bouvais answered warmly.
“And yet you will not consent to give this evidence against Gaunt?”
“No. He is a white man, and I liked him,” was the decisive reply.
“Ah, Bouvais, your answer pains me, for I fear that we shall cease to be friends. You are drawing a pension, and we cannot continue to pay one who will not go out of his way to help us.”
“The pension is a small one and I am not a poor man.”