Part 28 (1/2)
”The King? What the devil has he to do with anything but his women and his amus.e.m.e.nts?”
A very close observer might have seen a curious expression flicker over Pasquin Leroy's face at these words,--an expression half of laughter, half of scorn,--but it was slight and evanescent, and his reply was frigidly courteous.
”I really cannot inform you; but I am afraid his Majesty is departing somewhat from his customary routine! He is, in fact, taking an active, instead of a pa.s.sive part in national affairs.”
”Then he must be warned off the ground!” said Jost irritably; ”He is a Const.i.tutional monarch, and must obey the laws of the Const.i.tution.”
”Precisely!” And Leroy looked carefully at the end of his cigar; ”But at present he appears to have an idea that the laws of the Const.i.tution are being tampered with by certain other kings;--for example,--the kings of finance!”
Jost muttered a half-inaudible oath.
”Come this way,” he said impatiently;--”Bad news is best soon over!”
Leroy gave a careless nod of acquiescence,--then glancing round the room, up at the clock, and down again to Jost's desk, strewn with letters and doc.u.ments of every description, he smiled a little to himself, and followed the all-powerful editor into the smaller adjoining apartment. The door closed behind them both, and Jost turned the key in the lock from within.
For a long time all was very silent. Jost's valet and confidential servant, sleepy and tired, waited in the hall to let his master's visitor out,--and hearing no sound, ventured to look into the study now and then,--but to no purpose. He knew the sanct.i.ty of that inner chamber beyond; he knew that when the Premier came to see the great Jost,--as he often did,--it was in that mysterious further room that business was transacted, and that it was as much as his place was worth to venture even to knock at the door. So, yawning heavily, he dozed on his bench in the hall,--woke with a start and dozed again,--while the clock slowly ticked away the minutes till with a dull clang the hour struck One. Then on again went the steady and wearisome tick-tick of the pendulum, for a quarter of an hour, half an hour,--and three-quarters,--till the utterly fatigued valet was about to knock down a few walking-sticks and umbrellas, and make a general noise of reminder to his master as to how the time was going, when, to his great relief, he heard the inner door open at last, and the voice of the mysterious visitor ring out in clear, precise accents.
”Nothing will be done publicly, of course,--unless Parliament insists on an enquiry!” The speaker came towards the hall, and the valet sprang up from his bench, and stood ready to show the stranger out.
Jost replied, and his accents were thick and unsteady.
”Enquiry cannot be forced! The Marquis himself can burk any such attempt.”
”But--if the King should insist?”
”He would be breaking all the rules of custom and precedent,” said Jost,--”And he would deserve to be dethroned!”
Pasquin Leroy laughed.
”True! Good-night, Mr. Jost! Can I do anything for you in Moscow?” The two men now came into the full light shed by the great lamp in the hall.
Jost looked darkly red in the face--almost apoplectic; Leroy was as cool, imperturbable and easy of manner as a practised detective or professional spy.
”In Moscow,” Jost repeated--”You are going straight to Russia?”
”I think so.”
”I suppose you are in the secret service?”
”Exactly! A curious line of business, too, which the outside world knows very little of. Ah!--if the excellent people--the ma.s.ses as we call them--knew what rogues had the ruling of their affairs in some countries--not in this country, of course!” he added with a quizzical smile,--”but in some others, not very far away, I wonder how many revolutions would break out within six months! Good-night, Mr. Jost!”
”Good-night!” responded Jost briefly. ”You will let me know any further developments?”
”Most a.s.suredly!”
The servant opened the door, and Pasquin Leroy slipped a gold coin worth a sovereign into his hand, whereupon, of course, the worthy domestic considered him to be a 'real gentleman.' As soon as he had pa.s.sed into the street, and the door was shut and barred for the night, Jost bade his man go to bed, a command which was gladly obeyed; and re-entering his study, pa.s.sed all the time till the breaking of dawn in rummaging out letters and doc.u.ments from various desks, drawers and despatch-boxes, and burning them carefully one by one in the open grate.
While thus employed, he had a truly villainous aspect,--each flame he kindled with each paper seemed to show up a more unpleasing expression on his countenance, till at last,--when such matter was destroyed as he had at present determined on,--he drew himself up and stood for a moment surveying the pile of light black ashes, which was all that was left of about a hundred or more incriminating paper witnesses to certain matters in which he had more than a lawful interest.
”It will be difficult now to trace my hand in the scheme!” he said to himself, frowning heavily, as he considered various uncomfortable contingencies arising out of his conversation with his late visitor.
”If the thunderbolt falls, it will crush Carl Perousse--not me. Yes! It means ruin for him--ruin and disgrace--but for me--well! I shall find it as easy to d.a.m.n Perousse as it has been to support him, for he cannot involve me without adding tenfold to his own disaster! I think it will be safe enough for me--possibly not so safe for the Premier. However, I will write to him to-morrow, just to let him know I received his messenger.”
In the meantime, while David Jost was thus cogitating unpleasant and even dangerous possibilities, which were perhaps on the eve of occurring to himself and certain of his a.s.sociates in politics and journalism, Pasquin Leroy was hurrying along the city streets under the light of a clear, though pallid and waning moon. Few wanderers were abroad; the police walked their various rounds, and one or two miserable women pa.s.sed him, like flying ghosts in the thin air of night. His mind was in a turmoil of agitation; and the thoughts that were tossing rapidly through his brain one upon the other, were such as he had never known before. He had fathomed a depth of rascality and deception, which but a short month ago, he could scarcely have believed capable of existence.