As you value your life, don't tell any one else what you have
told me. I trust that I am the first."
"I have told the Marquise," Duncombe answered, "and she has gone to find
out whether Miss Poynton will see me."
The Vicomte's patent boot tapped the floor slowly.
"You have told the Marquise," he repeated thoughtfully. "Stop! I must
think!"
There was a short silence. Then the Vicomte looked up.
"Very well," he said. "Now listen! Have you any confidence in me?"
"Undoubtedly," Duncombe answered. "The advice you gave me before was, I
know, good. It was confirmed a few hours following, and, as you know, I
followed it."
"Then listen," the Vicomte said. "_L'affaire Poynton_ is in excellent
hands. The young lady will come to no harm. You are here, I know,
because you are her friend. You can help her if you will."
"How?" Duncombe asked.
"By leaving Paris to-day."
"Your advice," Duncombe said grimly, "seems to lack variety."
The Vicomte shrugged his shoulders.
"The other affair," he said; "is still open. If I stepped to the
telephone here you would be arrested within the hour."
"Can't you leave the riddles out and talk so that an ordinary man can
understand you for a few minutes?" Duncombe begged.
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