Plenty to eat, eh, Francois? Nice soft food that needs no
chewing! Nothing to do but run with a letter now and then, eh? A brave
fellow is Francois--a clever fellow--a trustworthy fellow--a dependable,
willing fellow, always ready to please! Ready to go?
"Well, there's the letter; be careful with it, and run-run-run like a
good boy! A whole bottle of rum when you come back--think of it! A
whole bottle of nice brown rum to yourself in that nice little room
where your bed is! There, goodbye!"
The creature addressed as Francois vanished, with a snort and a sort of
squeal that may have been meant for speech. "That is the best messenger
in Syria," said Rene. "He is priceless--incorruptible, silent, and as
sure as Destiny! The French General Staff will have that letter before
dawn. Now--what next?"
"You come with me," I answered.
He felt better now that the message was on its way; second thought
convinced him of my connection with the French. There is no more
profitless delusion than to suppose that a country's secret agents are
always its own nationals. They are almost always not.
If the French used only Frenchmen, Germany used none but Germans, Great
Britain only Englishmen, and so on, it might be prettier and easier for
the police, but intelligence departments would starve.
Pages:
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216