“I think, my friend,” Von Tressen returned slily, “you are very anxious to see it, and are much interested in Count Zarka. Why, I do not know. To me he is not an attractive person.”
Galabin gave a shrug. “I am a student of human nature, my dear Osbert. This man is a curiosity. At least you will allow that. Most men are negative characters. I love a positive, whether it be good or evil.”
“The positive characters in general are evil, are they not?”
“True. And I imagine our friend over there in particular. Still he will be a study.”
“Mark!” Von Tressen’s gun rang out, and a black-cock fell twenty yards in front of them. “But, my good Horaz,” he said as he reloaded, “you did not come out here to study character. You came for sport, did you not?”
Galabin pointed to the fallen bird. “There are more kinds of sport than that, my friend,” he returned.
Von Tressen looked at him sharply, and, as the eyes of the two men met, the light of a mutual understanding seemed to fill them. “Now, Horaz,” he said with a laugh, “is it worth while wasting time by playing at cross purposes? We are old comrades; you can trust me.”
“Yes,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation, “I can trust you. We both serve the same master, and it is on his business that I am here. Besides, you should be able to help me; there is no reason why we should not work together.”
“State service? My dear Horaz, you may be sure I shall only be too ready.”
“We diplomats,” Galabin observed cautiously, “have to be more than ordinarily careful. Gersdorff would say it is a mistake to trust one’s dearest friend. The very essence of our work is secrecy. Still, confidence here is less dangerous than the risk of our playing at cross purposes; for there, my friend, you might easily and quite unwittingly spoil my game.”