“And you want to get her to marry you?”

“Yes; that’s just it.”

“And you want me to help you?

“That’s just it again.”

“Well?”

“Upon my word, if you’ll stick to me, you know, and see me through it, and all that kind of thing, you’ll find in me a most grateful friend; indeed, a most grateful friend.”  And Archie, as from his position he was debarred from attempting the smoothing process, began to work with his right forefinger under the glove on his left hand.

“What have you got there?” said Madam Gordeloup, looking at him with all her eyes.

Captain Clavering instantly discontinued the work with his finger, and became terribly confused.  Her voice on asking the question had become very sharp; and it seemed to him that if he brought out his money in that awkward, barefaced way, which now seemed to be necessary, she would display all the wrath of which a Russian spy could be capable.  Would it not be better that he should let the money rest for the present, and trust to his promise of gratitude?  Ah, how he wished that he had slipped at any rate one note between the pages of a book.

“What have you got there?” she demanded again, very sharply.

“Oh, nothing.”

“It is not nothing.  What have you got there?  If you have got nothing, take off your glove.  Come.”

Captain Clavering became very red in the face, and was altogether at a loss what to say or do.

“Is it money you have got there?” she asked.  “Let me see how much.  Come.”

“It is just a few bank-notes I put in here to be handy,” he said.

“Ah; that is very handy, certainly.  I never saw that custom before.  Let me look.”  Then she took his hand, and with her own hooked finger clawed out the notes.  “Ah! five, ten, fifteen, twenty pounds.  Twenty pounds is not a great deal, but it is very nice to have even that always handy.  I was wanting so much money as that myself; perhaps you will make it handy to me.”

“Upon my word I shall be most happy.  Nothing on earth would give me more pleasure.”

“Fifty pounds would give me more pleasure; just twice as much pleasure.”  Archie had begun to rejoice greatly at the safe disposition of the money, and to think how excellently well this spy did her business; but now there came upon him suddenly an idea that spies perhaps might do their business too well.  “Twenty pounds in this country goes a very little way; you are all so rich,” said the spy.

“By George, I ain’t.  I ain’t rich, indeed.”

“But you mean to be—­with Julie’s money?”

“Oh—­ah—­yes; and you ought to know, Madam Gordeloup, that I am now the heir to the family estate and title.”

“Yes; the poor little baby is dead, in spite of the pills and the powders, the daisies and the buttercups!  Poor little baby!  I had a baby of my own once, and that died also.”  Whereupon Madam Gordeloup, putting up her hand to her eyes, wiped away a real tear with the bank-notes which she still held.  “And I am to remind Julie that you will be the heir?”