"Good heavens! the man ought to have a bearing-rein. I much fear the mischief is done. The little brute! He is both mean and treacherous."
She turned to look down at the wreckage of her household Lares and rang the bell.
Cæsar appeared. "Sweep up my gods, and take them away. Good heavens! I ought to have flattered the man. I promised the blue mandarin to Darthea Wynne because he always nodded yes to her when she wanted advice to her liking. Well, well, I am a blundering old idiot." She had indeed made mischief, and repentance, as usual with her, came late. She had, however, only added to the mischief. Chovet had already said enough, and the loss of the despatch and the attack on Carteaux by a clerk of the Department of State aroused anew the Democrats and fed the gossip of the card-tables, while René rode on his homeward way with a mind at ease. Nothing had so disturbed the social life of the city for many a day. Before long the matter came to the ear of the Secretary of State, who saw at once its bearing upon his department and the weapon it would be in the hands of party. It was, however, he said to Mr. Bingham, too wild a story for ready credence, and De Courval would soon be at home.
A day later, Fauchet presented to the amazed and angry Secretary of State Carteaux's formal statement, but made no explanation of its delay except the illness of his attaché. The man was near to death. He himself believed his statement, the words of a man about to die. Randolph stood still in thought. "Your charge, sir," he said, and he spoke French well, "is that my clerk, the Vicomte de Courval, has stolen your despatch and perhaps fatally wounded the gentleman commissioned to deliver it."
"You state it correctly. I am not surprised."
The tone was so insolent that Randolph said sharply: "You are not surprised? Am I to presume that you consider me a party to the matter?"
"I have not said so, but subordinates are sometimes too zealous and—"
"And what, sir?"
"It is idle to suppose that the theft had no motive. There was some motive, but what it was perhaps the English party may be able to explain. My despatch is lost. Your secretary took it with the help of one Schmidt. The loss is irreparable and of great moment. I insist, sir, that the one man who has not fled be dealt with by you, and by the law."
"I shall wait, sir, until I hear the vicomte's story. He is a gentleman of irreproachable character, a man of honor who has served us here most faithfully. I shall wait to hear from him. Your secretary seems to have lied at first and waited long to tell this amazing story."