The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad

him for some five minutes perhaps. He certainly gave me a piece of

very startling news. Then the Baron took me aside nervously to

praise him up to me, and when I turned round again I discovered

that the fellow had vanished like a ghost. Got up and sneaked out

down some back stairs, I suppose. There was no time to run after

him, as I had to hurry off after the Ambassador down the great

staircase, and see the party started safe for the opera. However,

I acted upon the information that very night. Whether it was

perfectly correct or not, it did look serious enough. Very likely

it saved us from an ugly trouble on the day of the Imperial visit

to the City.

“Some time later, a month or so after my promotion to Chief

Inspector, my attention was attracted to a big burly man, I thought

I had seen somewhere before, coming out in a hurry from a

jeweller’s shop in the Strand. I went after him, as it was on my

way towards Charing Cross, and there seeing one of our detectives

across the road, I beckoned him over, and pointed out the fellow to

him, with instructions to watch his movements for a couple of days,

and then report to me. No later than next afternoon my man turned

up to tell me that the fellow had married his landlady’s daughter

at a registrar’s office that very day at 11.30 a.m., and had gone

off with her to Margate for a week. Our man had seen the luggage

being put on the cab. There were some old Paris labels on one of

the bags. Somehow I couldn’t get the fellow out of my head, and

the very next time I had to go to Paris on service I spoke about

him to that friend of mine in the Paris police. My friend said:

`From what you tell me I think you must mean a rather well-known

hanger-on and emissary of the Revolutionary Red Committee. He says

he is an Englishman by birth. We have an idea that he has been for

a good few years now a secret agent of one of the foreign Embassies

in London.’ This woke up my memory completely. He was the

vanishing fellow I saw sitting on a chair in Baron Stott-

Wartenheim’s bathroom. I told my friend that he was quite right.

The fellow was a secret agent to my certain knowledge. Afterwards

my friend took the trouble to ferret out the complete record of

that man for me. I thought I had better know all there was to

know; but I don’t suppose you want to hear his history now, sir?”

The Assistant Commissioner shook his supported head. “The history

of your relations with that useful personage is the only thing that

matters just now,” he said, closing slowly his weary, deep-set

eyes, and then opening them swiftly with a greatly refreshed

glance.

“There’s nothing official about them,” said the Chief Inspector

bitterly. “I went into his shop one evening, told him who I was,

and reminded him of our first meeting. He didn’t as much as twitch

an eyebrow. He said that he was married and settled now, and that

all he wanted was not to be interfered in his little business. I

took it upon myself to promise him that, as long as he didn’t go in

for anything obviously outrageous, he would be left alone by the

police. That was worth something to him, because a word from us to

the Custom-House people would have been enough to get some of these

packages he gets from Paris and Brussels opened in Dover, with

confiscation to follow for certain, and perhaps a prosecution as

well at the end of it.”

“That’s a very precarious trade,” murmured the Assistant

Commissioner. “Why did he go in for that?”

The Chief Inspector raised scornful eyebrows dispassionately.

“Most likely got a connection – friends on the Continent – amongst

people who deal in such wares. They would be just the sort he

would consort with. He’s a lazy dog, too – like the rest of them,”

“What do you get from him in exchange for your protection?”

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