“I shall go to Brussels to-morrow, and make the offer personally,” the Baron said.
“But, if you do so, you will not leave your wife and daughter here. If I were you I would send them to Ostend, where, if further trouble occurs, they can easily cross to England. They should not be left here alone. One never knows what may happen.” The Baron did not reply. He was still reassured by the words of certain highly-placed officials in Brussels that the Baroness and Aimée would be quite safe at Sévérac, and Rigaux, on his part, did not think it worth while to tell him of the close proximity of the Uhlans.
“I shall see you in Brussels to-morrow,” the Baron said briefly.
“Yes. May I tell Max that you will be at the Hôtel de Ville at noon—eh?” asked the secret agent of the Kaiser, “and that you and your English friends will, if necessary, guarantee the loan to the municipality of the eight millions demanded?”
“Yes,” was his friend’s reply.
“Ah, Henri,” cried Arnaud Rigaux, “you are a true patriot. You, the wealthiest man in Belgium, to come forward at such a time,” And, Judas-like, he took the Baron’s hand—he who was now secretly acting as financial agent of the German Government. “Monsieur Max has been made responsible for the good behaviour of the capital, and they have handed him back his scarf of office. The surrender was a sad and impressive scene, I can assure you,” he added.
“Ah, yes,” replied the Baron very gravely. “I had no idea that the enemy were already in Brussels.”
“Yes. They have taken Liège, Tirlemont, and Louvain, and are now coming up to bombard Namur.”
“So near!” cried the broad-shouldered Baron, amazed.
“Yes. That is why I suggest to you, privately, that the ladies should be sent at once to the coast.”