“I say,” Rollmar continued with an inauspicious light in his eyes, “it is fortunate for all parties concerned, directly and indirectly—yourself included.”
The suggestion was unmistakable, the soldier’s second bow was given in less comfort than the first.
Sitting with his thin, white, cruel hands clasped before him, the hands that had woven many a web and signed many a doom, the Chancellor resumed.
“What you saw, my good Captain, was a dangerous sight for any man to see. But I have confidence, as I say, in your honour, your chivalry,” (Ompertz bowed again with rising confidence) “and I mean to trust you.”
“The trust with which your Excellency is pleased to honour a poor soldier shall never be repented,” was the mercenary’s fervent assurance.
The Chancellor pursed his lips as though to intimate he would take care of that.
“It is,” he proceeded, “obviously imperative that this discovery should be confined to the——” he unclasped the long fingers and counted on them—“the five persons who already know of it. I shall, at any rate for the present, take upon myself to keep even his Highness in ignorance. You will understand, Captain, that state as well as personal interests demand that this foolish affair must be crushed at once. It is in the highest degree unfortunate that the other party in this affair is unknown, unrecognisable. Still, that is now merely a question of a few hours. I propose to employ you, Captain, on this secret service.”
“I am greatly honoured, Excellency.”
“With you,” Rollmar went on, ignoring the other’s flourish of acknowledgements, “with you inconvenient explanations will be unneeded. You will understand. For the time being you are in my service. Here,” he wrote a few words on a slip of paper, “is an order on my Comptroller for pay against any present necessities. Furbish up your wardrobe, and report yourself to me every day at noon and six o’clock. I may have instructions for you. In the meantime keep your eyes and ears open, live quietly, respectably, and, above all, remember that a hint of your secret cancels your pardon.”
“Excellency,” Ompertz protested in his grandest manner, “your threat does me less than justice. The honour of the Princess is safe in my keeping; safer than if my life were as important to me as your words imply.”