He gave the order to drive to his rooms. On the way he
passed the great pile of buildings in the Louvre. In a room at the
extreme end of the pile a light was burning. De Bergillac looked at it
curiously. A small brougham, which he recognized, stood outside.
"If one could see inside," he muttered. "It should be interesting!"
* * * * *
In a sense it was interesting. Monsieur Grisson sat there in front of
his open table. His secretary's place by his side was vacant. Opposite
sat a tall man with gray hair and dark moustache. He was dressed for the
evening, and his breast glittered with stars and orders.
"It is exceedingly kind of you, Monsieur," he said, "to grant me this
interview at so short notice. I was most anxious to apprise you of news,
which as yet I believe has not found its way into your papers. You have
read accounts of a Russian attack upon an English fishing-fleet, but you
have not yet been informed of the presence--the undoubted presence--of
Japanese torpedo-boats concealed amongst them."
Monsieur Grisson raised his eyebrows.
"Indeed no!" he answered. "We have not even heard a rumor of anything of
the sort.
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