"You see I was not guilty of exaggeration, Count," said the director.
"It is obvious to every one that Thomas Roch is becoming daily worse.
In my opinion his case is a hopeless one. If all the money he asks for
were offered to him, nothing could be got from him."
"Very likely," replied the Count, "still, if his pecuniary demands are
supremely absurd, he has none the less invented an engine the power of
which is infinite, one might say."
"That is the opinion expressed by competent persons, Count. But what
he has discovered will ere long be lost with himself in one of these
fits which are becoming more frequent and intense. Very soon even the
motive of interest, the only sentiment that appears to have survived
in his mind, will become extinct."
"Mayhap the sentiment of hatred will remain, though," muttered the
Count, as Spade joined them at the garden gate.
CHAPTER III.
KIDNAPPED.
Half an hour later the Count d'Artigas and Captain Spade were
following the beech-lined road that separated the Healthful House
estate from the right bank of the Neuse. Both had taken leave of the
director, the latter declaring himself greatly honored by their visit,
and the former thanking him warmly for his courteous reception. A
hundred-dollar bill left as a tip for the staff of the establishment
had certainly not belied the Count's reputation for generosity. He
was--there could be no doubt about it--a foreigner of the highest
distinction, if distinction be measured by generosity.
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