The loneliness of the upper deck offered its attractions to the Mauravanian and to Margot, and in the emptiness of it they met again--within earshot of the lifeboat where Narkom and the boy lay hidden--for one brief word before they went ashore.
"So, you have read: you understand how useless it was?" the Mauravanian said, joining her again at the deckhouse, where she stood with the crumpled newspaper in her hand. "His Majesty's purse cannot be lightened of all that promised sum for any such bungle as this. Speak quickly; where may we go to talk in safety? I cannot risk it here--I will not risk it in the train. Must we wait until we reach Paris, mademoiselle? Or have you a lair of your own here?"
"I have 'lairs,' as you term them, in half the cities of France, Monsieur le Comte," she answered with a vicious little note of resentment in her voice. "And I do not work for nothing--no, not I! I paid for my adherence to his Majesty's Prime Minister and I intend to be paid for my services to his Majesty's self, even though I have this once failed. It must be settled, that question, at once and for all--now--to-night."
"I guessed it would be like that," he answered, with a jerk of his shoulders. "Where shall it be, then? Speak quickly. They are making the landing and I must not be seen talking with you after we go ashore. Where, then?"
"At the Inn of the Seven Sinners--on the Quai d'Lorme--a gunshot distant. Any cocher will take you there."
"All my 'lairs' are safe, monsieur. It overhangs the water. And if strangers come, there is a trap with a bolt on the under side. One way: to the town and the sewers and forty other inns. The other: to a motor boat, always in readiness for instant use. You could choose for yourself should occasion come. You will not find the place shut--my 'lairs' never are. A password? No, there is none--for any but the Brotherhood. Nor will you need one. You remember old Marise of the 'Twisted Arm' in Paris? Well, she serves at the Seven Sinners now. I have promoted Madame Serpice to the 'Twisted Arm'. She will know you, will Marise. Say to her I am coming shortly. She and her mates will raise the roof with joy, and--la! la! The gangway is out. They are calling all ashore. Look for me and my lads close on your heels when you arrive. Au revoir."