Part 36 (1/2)

Schmidt said: ”My work is small just now, and the hours of the State Department would release you at three. You would be at the center of affairs, and learn much, and would find the Secretary pleasant. But, remember, the work may bring you into relations with Carteaux.”

”I have thought of that; but my mother will like this work for me. The business she disliked.”

”Then take it, if it is offered, as I am sure it will be.” ”He is very quiet about Carteaux,” thought Schmidt. ”Something will happen soon. I did say from the first that I would not desire to be inside of that Jacobin's skin.”

The day after, a brief note called De Courval to the Department of State.

The modest building which then housed the Secretary and his affairs was a small dwelling-house on High Street, No. 379, as the old numbers ran.

No mark distinguished it as the vital center of a nation's foreign business. Rene had to ask a pa.s.ser-by for the direction.

For a brief moment De Courval stood on the outer step before the open door. A black servant was asleep on a chair within the sanded entry.

The simplicity and poverty of a young nation, just of late having set up housekeeping, were plainly to be read in the office of the Department of State. Two or three persons went in or came out.

Beside the step an old black woman was selling peanuts. Rene's thoughts wandered for a moment from his Norman home to a clerk's place in the service of a new country.

”How very strange!”--he had said so to Schmidt, and now recalled his laughing reply: ”We think we play the game of life, Rene, but the banker Fate always wins. His dice are loaded, his cards are marked.” The German liked to puzzle him. ”And yet,” reflected De Courval, ”I can go in or go home.” He said to himself: ”Surely I am free,--and, after all, how little it means for me! I am to translate letters.” He roused the snoring negro, and asked, ”Where can I find Mr. Randolph?” As the drowsy slave was a.s.sembling his wits, a notably pleasant voice behind Rene said: ”I am Mr. Randolph, at your service. Have I not the pleasure to see the Vicomte de Courval?”

”Yes, I am he.”

”Come into my office.” Rene followed him, and they sat down to talk in the simply furnished front room.

The Secretary, then in young middle age, was a largely built man and portly, dark-eyed, with refined features and quick to express a certain conciliatory courtesy in his relations with others. He used gesture more freely than is common with men of our race, and both in voice and manner there was something which Rene felt to be engaging and attractive.

He liked him, and still more after a long talk in which the duties of the place were explained and his own indisposition to speak of his past life recognized with tactful courtesy.

Randolph said at last, ”The office is yours if it please you to accept.”

”I do so, sir, most gladly.”

”Very good. I ought to say that Mr. Freneau had but two hundred and fifty dollars a year. It is all we can afford.”

As Rene was still the helper of Schmidt, and well paid, he said it was enough. He added: ”I am not of any party, sir. I have already said so, but I wish in regard to this to be definite.”

”That is of no moment, or, in fact, a good thing. Your duties here pledge you to no party. I want a man of honor, and one with whom state secrets will be safe. Well, then, you take it? We seem to be agreed.”

”Yes; and I am much honored by the offer.”

”Then come here at ten to-morrow. There is much to do for a time.”

Madame was pleased. This at least was not commerce. But now there was little leisure, and no time for visits to the Hill, at which the two conspiring cupids, out of business and anxious, smiled, doubtful as to what cards Fate would hold in this game: and thus time ran on.

The work was easy and interesting. The Secretary, courteous and well-pleased, in that simpler day, came in person to the little room a.s.signed to De Courval and brought doc.u.ments and letters which opened a wide world to a curious young man, who would stay at need until midnight, and who soon welcomed duties far beyond mere French letter-writing.

By and by there were visits with papers to Mr. Wolcott at the Treasury Department, No. 119 Chestnut Street, and at last to Fauchet at Oeller's Hotel.

He was received with formal civility by Le Blanc, a secretary, and presently Carteaux, entering, bowed. De Courval did not return the salute, and, finis.h.i.+ng his business without haste, went out.