"In Moscow," Jost repeated--"You are going straight to Russia?"
"I think so."
"I suppose you are in the secret service?"
"Exactly! A curious line of business, too, which the outside world
knows very little of. Ah!--if the excellent people--the masses as we
call them--knew what rogues had the ruling of their affairs in some
countries--not in this country, of course!" he added with a quizzical
smile,--"but in some others, not very far away, I wonder how many
revolutions would break out within six months! Good-night, Mr. Jost!"
"Good-night!" responded Jost briefly. "You will let me know any further
developments?"
"Most assuredly!"
The servant opened the door, and Pasquin Leroy slipped a gold coin
worth a sovereign into his hand, whereupon, of course, the worthy
domestic considered him to be a 'real gentleman.' As soon as he had
passed into the street, and the door was shut and barred for the night,
Jost bade his man go to bed, a command which was gladly obeyed; and re-
entering his study, passed all the time till the breaking of dawn in
rummaging out letters and documents from various desks, drawers and
despatch-boxes, and burning them carefully one by one in the open
grate. While thus employed, he had a truly villainous aspect,--each
flame he kindled with each paper seemed to show up a more unpleasing
expression on his countenance, till at last,--when such matter was
destroyed as he had at present determined on,--he drew himself up and
stood for a moment surveying the pile of light black ashes, which was
all that was left of about a hundred or more incriminating paper
witnesses to certain matters in which he had more than a lawful
interest.
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