The decision of his gesture drew the Professor vaguely to his feet.
“Have you any idea,” he asked, with a sort of benevolent bewilderment, “exactly where you are going?”
“Yes,” replied Syme shortly, “I am going to prevent this bomb being thrown in Paris.”
“Have you any conception how?” inquired the other.
“No,” said Syme with equal decision.
“You remember, of course,” resumed the soi-disant de Worms, pulling his beard and looking out of the window, “that when we broke up rather hurriedly the whole arrangements for the atrocity were left in the private hands of the Marquis and Dr. Bull. The Marquis is by this time probably crossing the Channel. But where he will go and what he will do it is doubtful whether even the President knows; certainly we don’t know. The only man who does know is Dr. Bull.”
“Confound it!” cried Syme. “And we don’t know where he is.”
“Yes,” said the other in his curious, absentminded way, “I know where he is myself.”
“Will you tell me?” asked Syme with eager eyes.
“I will take you there,” said the Professor, and took down his own hat from a peg.
Syme stood looking at him with a sort of rigid excitement.
“What do you mean?” he asked sharply. “Will you join me? Will you take the risk?”
“Young man,” said the Professor pleasantly, “I am amused to observe that you think I am a coward. As to that I will say only one word, and that