Page:William Le Queux - The Temptress.djvu/98

Rh "Suppose the whole business came to light? How should I fare?" asked the sable-coated ecclesiastic thoughtfully, after they had been in conversation some minutes.

"Bah! Vous-Vous moquez des gens! Besides, you are always safe, surrounded as you are by a cloak of honesty. I tell you, the game can never be detected."

"Don't be too confident; it's a bad habit. Hugh Trethowen may suspect. Il est dégourdi, and if he should discover anything, depend upon it we should have the utmost difficulty in clearing ourselves. Somehow, I don't like the fellow; he knows too much."

"What nonsense you talk," replied the Frenchman impatiently. '^He can never know the truth. He loves Valérie, and you ought to know her well enough to recognize her consummate tact and ingenuity."

"Exactly. But why are you so positive that strict secrecy will be observed?"

"Because—because the only person who knew the secret has been silenced."

"Who?" demanded Holt in a hoarse whisper.

"Egerton."

The curate thrust his hands into his pockets, and gazed upon the floor a few moments.

"Well, I tell you candidly I don't half like it," he remarked apprehensively.

"Content yourself; neither of us are such imbeciles as to run any risks. Have you not already assisted us and shared our profits?"

Holt bit his lip. It was an allusion to unpleasant reminiscences.

"That is so," he admitted, twirling the small gold cross suspended from his watch-chain. "And what is the extent of my remuneration this time?"

"One hundred pounds."