They got into a taxi, and he gave an address on the Rue Mont-martre. “We're to meet a journalist; a man who has worthwhile connections, and often brings me tips. I give him a couple of hundred-franc notes. It's the custom of the country.”
It was a place Lanny had never heard of before. There were many tables on the sidewalk, but Robbie passed these by and strolled inside; he looked about, and went toward a table where sat a little man with heavy dark mustache and beard, pince-nez on a black silk cord, and a black tie. The man jumped up when he saw him. “Ah, M. Bood!” he exclaimed, trying to say it American fashion, but not succeeding.
“Bon jour, M. Pastier” replied Robbie, and introduced Lanny: “Mon secrétaire.” The man looked puzzled; for not many businessmen have secretaries fourteen years old. Robbie laughed, and added: “Aussi mon fils.”
“Ah, votre fils!” exclaimed the Frenchman, exuberantly, and shook hands with the lad. “C'est le crown prince, hein?”
“J'e l'espeer,” replied Robbie; his French was no better than M. Pastier's American.
The other invited them to sit down. They ordered, and Robbie included a large bottle of wine, knowing that his acquaintance would assist them. The Frenchman was a voluble talker, and impressed Lanny greatly. The boy was too young to realize that persons in this profession sometimes pretend to know more than they can know. To listen to him you would have thought he was the intimate friend of all the prominent members of the cabinet, and had talked with several of them that afternoon.
He reported that Germany had been making desperate efforts to detach France from her Russian engagements. “The German ambassador pleaded with friends of mine at the Quai d'Orsay. 'There is and should be no need for two highly civilized nations to engage in strife. Russia is a barbarous state, a Tatar empire, essentially Asiatic' So they argue. They would prefer to devour us at a second meal,” added the Frenchman, his black eyes shining.
“Naturellement,” said Robbie.
“But we have an alliance; the word of France has been given! Imagine, if you can, the insolence of these Teutons — they demand of us the fortresses of Toul and Verdun, as guarantees of our abandonment of the Russian alliance. Is it probable that we built them for that?”
“Pas probable,” assented the American.