"I am a Radical, sir, and I don't mind who knows it."
"Nothing penal in that. Every man has a right to his own political
creed."
The fingers crept closer and touched the gold.
"If I thought you wanted to bribe me, I'd rot before I had anything
to do with you."
The Commissioner smiled. There was no necessity to say anything
more, for the guineas were disappearing and finally, though slowly,
chinked down into Mr. Secretary's pocket.
The Commissioner held out his hand.
The Secretary before he took it looked loftier than ever.
"I hope you understand me, sir, clearly."
"I DO understand you clearly."
The Secretary shook the hand; the Commissioner went with him to the
door.
"Show this gentleman downstairs."
The constable, without a look of surprise, went downstairs, and Mr.
Secretary found himself in the street.
Mr. Commissioner drank another glass of wine, and then pencilled
something in a little memorandum book, which he put under the pistol.
The drawer had two locks, and he carefully locked both with two
little keys attached to a ribbon which he wore round his neck.
CHAPTER V--THE HORIZON WIDENS
Jean Caillaud, shoemaker, whom we have met before, commonly called
John Kaylow, friend of the Major and member of the Society of the
Friends of the People, was by birth a Frenchman.
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