“I can soon judge of your value by your adroitness, and you can make your own record!” smiled the strange woman waif. “Let me see how you would do this! I do not care to personally approach Mademoiselle Euphrosyne Delande, I would have a picture of the woman whom I seek—the lonely child whom I have hungered for long years to see! I do not care to expose myself here—”
“The Preceptress might telegraph out to India and the girl be spirited away!” broke in Alan Hawke.
“Very good! Precisely so!” said Berthe Louison, gravely. “I will tell you now that I have played perfectly fair with Anstruther! I have enabled him to assure himself of Nadine Johnstone’s regular standing as the legal and only heiress of the would-be Baronet! I do not fear Anstruther! He is a gallant boy, worthy to wear a sword, and, he does not work for hire! He tells me that Euphrosyne Delande showed him the last pictures of the girl which were sent on before Hugh Fraser suddenly telegraphed to have his child ‘personally conducted’ on carte blanche terms out to join him.”
Major Hawke buried his head in his hands and slowly said: “I can do it easily! We must not be seen together here! Go up to the Hotel Faucon, at Lausanne, and wait for me there for three days. I have to remain here at any rate to collect Anstruther’s check in London. I have in my favor all the facts of Anstruther’s story. I happen also to have Anstruther’s P. P. C. card. I will bring you the picture you want, or a half dozen copies. Will you trust to me? I make no professions!”
“That is right!” sternly said Berthe Louison. “Let our casual association be one of a mere money interest. We can find each other out easily. You have no motive to injure me, your own interest now and always lies the other way. I only wish to have some one at hand when I am ready to face the embryo Sir Hugh Johnstone!”
“You are bold!” slowly said Alan Hawke. “If I should denounce you to Johnstone, himself! If he should be warned—”
“I hold him and his long cherished dream, the Baronetcy, in my hand,” the brown-eyed beauty frankly cried. “I should not burn my ships in Europe! Even if I were to be betrayed, the purpose of my life will be carried out. I should leave here behind me the safest of anchors in other well-paid agents. Your rash meddling would only ruin your own money interests and not hurt my plans.”
“Then we are to make an offensive and defensive alliance without trust or faith in each other?” agnostically remarked Hawke.
“Just so!” answered Madame Louison. “I can make it to your interest to serve me well, better than the man whom I wish to face. You know India—you happen to know Delhi. Your possible adversary is an old civilian, rich, retired, and unable to rake up trouble for you in military circles. I will do my work alone, but I shall want your aid, and I will pay you liberally. I will go up to Lausanne. You will find me at the Hotel Faucon. Bring up some route maps of India. We will go out as soon as possible. Do you wish any present money?”
Alan Hawke reddened as he shook his head.