"But you might do so unknowingly. You might by one single chance-word place me within the power of those who seek my downfall."
"Who seeks your downfall, dad?" she asked very seriously.
"That's a matter which I desire to keep to myself. Unfortunately, I do not know the identity of my enemies; hence I am compelled to keep from you certain matters which, in other circumstances, you might know. But," he added, "this is not the first time we've discussed this question, Gabrielle dear. You are my daughter, and I trust you. Do not, child, misjudge me by suspecting that I doubt your loyalty."
"I don't, dad; only sometimes I——"
"Sometimes you think," he said, still stroking her hair—"you think that I ought to tell you the reason I receive all these reports from Paris, and their real significance. Well, to tell the truth, dear, it is best that you should not know. If you reflect for a moment," went on the old man, tears welling slowly in his filmy, sightless eyes, "you will realise my unhappy situation—how I am compelled to hide my affairs even from Lady Heyburn herself. Does she ever question you regarding them?"
"She used to at one time; but she refrains nowadays, for I would tell her nothing."
"Has anyone else ever tried to glean information from you?" he inquired, after a long breath.
"Mr. Flockart has done so on several occasions of late. But I pleaded absolute ignorance."
"Oh, Flockart has been asking you, has he?" remarked her father with surprise. "Well, I suppose it is only natural. A blind man's doings are always more or less a mystery to the world."
"I don't like Mr. Flockart, dad," she said.