Part 8 (1/2)
”I don't think that they mean you to die,” I said. ”They have an idea that you are in possession of some marvellous secret. They want to get possession of that first.”
”They persevere,” he murmured. ”In Paris--but never mind. They know very well that that secret, if I die before I can finish my work, dies with me, or--”
The nurse, who had left us a few moments before, re-entered the room. She went straight to a chair at the further end of the apartment, and took up a book. Guest looked at me with a puzzled expression.
”Stranger still!” he said, ”we are allowed to talk.”
”It may be only for a moment,” I reminded him.
”Or pa.s.s it on to a successor who will complete my work,” he said slowly.
”I fear that I shall not find him. The time is too short now.”
”Have you no friends I could send for?” I asked.
”Not one!” he answered.
I looked at him curiously. A man does not often confess himself entirely friendless.
”I need a strong, brave man,” he said slowly--”one who is not afraid of Death, one who has the courage to dare everything in a great cause!”
”A great cause!” I repeated. ”They are few and far between nowadays.”
He looked at me steadily.
”You are an Englishman!”
I laughed.
”Saxon to the backbone,” I admitted.
”You would consider it a great cause to save your country from ruin, from absolute and complete ruin!”
”My imagination,” I declared, ”cannot conceive such a situation.”
”A flock of geese once saved an empire,” he said, ”a child's little finger in the crack of the dam kept a whole city from destruction. One man may yet save this pig-headed country of ours from utter disaster. It may be you--it may be I!”
”You are also an Englishman!” I exclaimed.
”Perhaps!” he answered shortly. ”Never mind what I am. Think! Think hard!
By to-morrow you must decide! Are you content with your life? Does it satisfy you? You have everything else; have you ambition?”
”I am not sure,” I answered slowly. ”Remember that this is all new to me.
I must think!”
He raised himself a little in the bed. At no time on this occasion had he presented to me the abject appearance of the previous night. His cheeks were perfectly colorless, and this pallor, together with his white hair, and the spotless bed-linen, gave to his face a somewhat ghastly cast, but his dark eyes were bright and piercing, his features composed and natural.
”Listen,” he said, ”they may try to kill me, but I have a will, too, and I say that I will not die till I have found a successor to carry on--to the end--what I have begun. Mind, it is no coward's game! It is a walk with death, hand in hand, all the way.”