Just then there was the sound of a door opening and closing. Then they heard voices in the hall, as though some one had stepped out of the adjoining room.
“Yes,” said one of the voices, “I understood that you were being sought for anxiously all the afternoon.”
“By Messieurs Danvers and Wheelock. They are in my reception room waiting for me at this moment.”
“Had you better not introduce me; you know that I have not met them as yet.”
“No more have I. You’d better wait until I’ve settled this matter with them. Come to-morrow and I’ll be able to give you full information as to the price that will be paid if the dispatch is recovered.”
“I’m afraid it never will be. These Lascars are cunning dogs.”
“But Siki made the mistake of trying to dispose of the paper in Paris. That is how we found him out. No one would have suspected that he had it, but for that. And a man who makes a mistake once, may do so again.”
“You are right. Good-night, Monsieur Fochard. I will call upon you to-morrow as you request.”
The door leading to the street opened, and the other voice returned.
“Good-night, monsieur. Have no fear. I think all will be well in the end.”
The door then closed, and the man Fochard returned to the room adjoining. Ethan gripped Longsword’s arm in a clasp that made even that man of iron wince.
“No matter what happens,” said he, “express no surprise. Act as though you considered it all as a matter of course.”
“What is it?” queried Longsword, astonished at his young master’s manner.
“We are in the wrong house. And we have stumbled upon a clue to the missing dispatch.”
The door leading into the next room was now thrown open, and a stout, florid man in a velvet coat and with a great bunch of seals hanging from a heavy gold watch chain, stepped into the room.
“Gentlemen,” said he, advancing and holding out both hands, “I am most delighted to meet you.”
When he had shaken hands with them he continued, addressing Longsword,
“He does not speak French,” Ethan informed the man.
Fochard expressed his surprise with a shrug.
“Not speak French! That is odd. How then did his government come to choose him for this work in France?”
“You forget, monsieur,” said Ethan coolly, “that his coming to France was by accident. The dispatch got this far because our plans miscarried. Danvers’ working ground is the United States, and a knowledge of the French language is not necessary there.”