“But perhaps with your assistance we might tide over this difficulty, and get on afterwards as we have done hitherto? Come, monsieur, I think I cannot be mistaken,—have I not heard of you as a collector of coins?”
“You have heard of me?” The sub-prefect was puzzled, but interested and eager.
“It is possible that I might be able to assist you with some specimens for your collection. The English sovereign, for instance—it is generally regarded as rather a handsome coin. I hope you are not already possessed of an example?”
This time the sub-prefect understood perfectly. “I have not got it,” he said. “But it is of little use to obtain a single specimen. One desires a duplicate—perhaps also one or two for purposes of exchange.”
“I fancy I could manage to let you have three.”
“I fear that I could not well do with fewer than six.”
“Oh, come now, five; and you will countersign the passport, so that we may escape trouble in future?”
“Five be it, then. The coinage of your country is quite admirable, both as to design and weight, and I am glad to obtain specimens. I cannot say that I had realised its full beauty hitherto.”
He stood testing and scrutinising with the eye of a connoisseur the five sovereigns with which Cyril, who had provided himself with a certain quantity of English money for the purpose of supporting his assumed character, presented him, and then turning again to the table, scrawled a huge “Examined and found correct,” with his signature, across the passport, which he folded up and returned to Cyril with a bow. The carriage was ready by this time, and as none of the party felt inclined to linger at the table, the luggage was brought out and they started, leaving the sub-prefect bowing on the verandah, and his henchmen saluting with broad grins.
“Courage, madame!” said Cyril in a low voice, leaning across to the Queen, who looked ready to faint now that the immediate danger was over. “You did that admirably, but we must keep on the mask still. Remember that we have the driver with us.”