There was nothing above the reach of his mind, it
seemed, and nothing too low for him to bend down and touch. Every
detail had been considered by himself. He was like a man who,
having an open wound on his back, attends to it hurriedly before
showing an undaunted face to the enemy.
His inexorable finger had come down on the name of Antoine
Sebastian, figuring on all the secret reports--first in many.
"Who is this man?" he asked, and none could answer.
He had gone to the frontier without awaiting the solution to the
question. Such was his method now. He had so much to do that he
could but skim the surface of his task. For the human mind, though
it be colossal, can only work within certain limits. The greatest
orator in the world can only move his immediate hearers. Those
beyond the inner circle catch a word here and there, and imagination
supplies the rest or improves upon it. But those in the farthest
gallery hear nothing and see a little man gesticulating.
De Casimir was not entrusted with the execution of the Emperor's
orders. As a member of General Rapp's staff, resident in Dantzig
since the city's occupation by the French, he had been called upon
to make exhaustive reports upon the feeling of the burghers. There
were many doubtful cases. De Casimir did not pretend to be better
than his fellows. To some he had sold the benefit of the doubt.
Some had paid willingly enough for their warning.
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