You know it is contrary to my express orders."
"He said you would see him, madam; that he came on the part of a
friend, a very ancient friend, whose name I had but to tell you--"
"What name? Go on, Francois."
"The name--it is difficult. Ru--" he spoke very slowly, struggling
with the strangeness of the sounds. "Ru--pert--Gas--"
"Who can this be?" Mrs. Wilders had turned very white and now beckoned
Hobson to step out into the garden. "Is it a message from beyond the
grave?"
"Coward!" cried her companion contemptuously. "The Seine seldom
surrenders its prey. Rupert Gascoigne is dead--drowned, as you know,
fourteen years ago."
"But this visitor knew him--he knows of my connection with him. Else
why come in his name? Oh, Hippolyte, I tremble! Help me. Support me in
my interview with this strange man."
"No; it would not be safe. If he knew Rupert Gascoigne, he may, too,
have known Ledantec. I will not meet him."
"Who is the coward now?"
"I do not choose to run unnecessary risks. But I will help you--to
this extent. See the man, if you must see him, in the double
drawing-room. I will be within call."
"And earshot? I understand."
"Well, what can I overhear--about you, at least--that I do not know
already? In any case I could help you."
It was so arranged.
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