'It has to do exactly with those two things. I wish you to make an innocent bomb which will prevent an anarchist outrage.'
At this the little man drew back, and his face became pale.
'It is impossible,' he protested; 'I have had enough of innocent bombs. No, no, and in any case how can I be sure you come from Eugène Valmont? No, monsieur, I am not to be trapped the second time.'
At this I related rapidly all that Valmont had done for him, and even repeated Valmont's most intimate conversation with him. The man was nonplussed, but remained firm.
'I dare not do it,' he said.
We were alone in his back shop. I walked to the door and thrust in the bolt; then, after a moment's pause, turned round, stretched forth my right hand dramatically, and cried,—'Behold, Eugène Valmont!'
My friend staggered against the wall in his amazement, and I continued in solemn tones,—'Eugène Valmont, who by this removal of his disguise places his life in your hands as your life was in his. Now, monsieur, what will you do?'
He replied,—'Monsieur Valmont, I shall do whatever you ask. If I refused a moment ago, it was because I thought there was now in France no Eugène Valmont to rectify my mistake if I made one.'
I resumed my disguise, and told him I wished an innocent substitute for this picric bomb, and he at once suggested an earthenware globe, which would weigh the same as the bomb, and which could be coloured to resemble it exactly.
'And now, Monsieur Valmont, do you wish smoke to issue from this imitation bomb?'