Part 24 (2/2)
”Who is Kendricks?” she interrupted.
”A journalist, an old friend of mine. What he told me, though, I looked upon as simply a little more malice from my friend Carraby.”
”Tell me exactly his news?”
”He told me,” Julien continued, ”that there is a good deal of unrest over in London concerning our relations with France. The absolute candor and completely good understanding which existed a short time ago seems to have become clouded. Carraby is trying to suggest in English circles that I have been using my influence over here against the present government. The absurd part of it is that although I have been in France for a month, I arrived in Paris only yesterday.”
”I was not alluding to that at all,” she said. ”It is in the country places, at the by-elections, and twice in the House itself lately, that things have been said which point to a certain impatience at your having been dropped so completely. You know Brentwood?”
”A strong, firm man,” Julien replied, ”but scarcely a friend of mine.”
”Well, in your House of Parliament, the night before last,” she continued, ”he said that your country needed men at the Foreign Office who, however great might be their love of peace, still were not afraid of war, and your name was mentioned.”
Julien smiled.
”They used to call me the fire-brand. I suppose I am in a great minority. I have never been able to see that a wholesome war, in defense of one's territory and one's honor, is an unmixed curse. It is the natural blood-letting of a strong country.”
”No wonder you are unpopular in radical circles,” she remarked, raising her eyebrows; ”but anyhow, what I really want to say to you is this.
Don't do anything rash. You have made the acquaintance of the most dangerous man in Europe. Don't let him control your actions, don't let him influence you. I want you always, whatever you do, to leave the way open for your return.”
He shook his head.
”I do not think that my return is ever possible.”
”Have you talked with your friend Kendricks?” she asked.
”Not yet,” he replied.
”Hear what he has to say,” she continued. ”Bring him to see me if you will.”
”I will try,” he promised.
They were silent for a moment, listening to the splas.h.i.+ng of the fountain outside and the distant hum of the city.
”Do you know that you are very kind to me?” he said.
”You were very much afraid of me yesterday,” she reminded him.
”Had I any cause?”
She smiled.
”I shall not tell you my secrets. You must find them out. I have dabbled in politics, I have dabbled in diplomacy. I have not as a rule very much sympathy with your s.e.x, as I think you know. It has never interested me before even to give good advice to a man. If I were you, Sir Julien, beyond a certain point I would not trust Madame Christophor, for when the time comes I have always the feeling that if a man's career lay within my power, I would sooner wreck it than help him.”
”Of course you are talking nonsense,” he declared.
”Am I?” she replied. ”Well, I don't know. I can look back now to a half-hour of my life when I loathed every creature that could call itself a man.”
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