let us rest on the understanding that I have found, at one end, a message scrawled on a bank-note hidden in a secret place, at the other end, yourself, Monsieur le Comte. Between and beyond these points exists a mystery, of which one anticipates elucidation."
"You shall have it," De Morbihan promised. "But first, we must go to those others who await us."
"Not so fast!" Lanyard interposed. "What am I to understand? That you wish me to accompany you to the—ah—den of the Pack?"
"Where else?" De Morbihan grinned.
"But where is that?"
"I am not permitted to say—"
"Still, one has one's eyes. Why not satisfy me here?"
"Your eyes, by your leave, monsieur, will be blindfolded."
"Impossible."
"Pardon—it is an essential—"
"Come, come, my friend: we are not in the Middle Ages!"
"I have no discretion, monsieur. My confrères—"
"I insist: there will be trust on both sides or no negotiations."
"But I assure you, my dear friend—"
"My dear Count, it is useless: I am determined. Blindfold? I should say not! This is not—need I remind you again?—the Paris of Balzac and that wonderful Dumas of yours!"
"What do you propose, then?" De Morbihan enquired, worrying his moustache.
