The Essential Maurice Leblanc Collection. Морис Леблан
way. The work I've got to do can't be done in pyjamas. I wish it could; for bed's the place for me. My wits aren't quite as clear as I could wish them to deal with an awkward business like this. Well, I must do the best I can with them."
He yawned and went to the bedroom, leaving the pocket-book on the table.
"Bring my shaving-water, Charolais, and shave me," he said, pausing; and he went into the bedroom and shut the door.
"Ah," said Victoire sadly, "what a pity it is! A few years ago he would have gone to the Crusades; and to-day he steals coronets. What a pity it is!"
"I think myself that the best thing we can do is to pack up our belongings," said Charolais. "And I don't think we've much time to do it either. This particular game is at an end, you may take it from me."
"I hope to goodness it is: I want to get back to the country," said Victoire.
He took up the tray; and they went out of the room. On the landing they separated; she went upstairs and he went down. Presently he came up with the shaving water and shaved his master; for in the house in University Street he discharged the double functions of valet and butler. He had just finished his task when there came a ring at the front-door bell.
"You'd better go and see who it is," said Lupin.
"Bernard is answering the door," said Charolais. "But perhaps I'd better keep an eye on it myself; one never knows."
He put away the razor leisurely, and went. On the stairs he found Bonavent, mounting--Bonavent, disguised in the livery and fierce moustache of a porter from the Ritz.
"Why didn't you come to the servants' entrance?" said Charolais, with the truculent air of the servant of a duke and a stickler for his master's dignity.
"I didn't know that there was one," said Bonavent humbly. "Well, you ought to have known that there was; and it's plain enough to see. What is it you want?" said Charolais.
"I've brought a letter--a letter for the Duke of Charmerace," said Bonavent.
"Give it to me," said Charolais. "I'll take it to him."
"No, no; I'm to give it into the hands of the Duke himself and to nobody else," said Bonavent.
"Well, in that case, you'll have to wait till he's finished dressing," said Charolais.
They went on up to the stairs into the ante-room. Bonavent was walking straight into the smoking-room.
"Here! where are you going to? Wait here," said Charolais quickly. "Take a chair; sit down."
Bonavent sat down with a very stolid air, and Charolais looked at him doubtfully, in two minds whether to leave him there alone or not. Before he had decided there came a thundering knock on the front door, not only loud but protracted. Charolais looked round with a scared air; and then ran out of the room and down the stairs.
On the instant Bonavent was on his feet, and very far from stolid. He opened the door of the smoking-room very gently and peered in. It was empty. He slipped noiselessly across the room, a pair of clippers ready in his hand, and cut the wires of the telephone. His quick eye glanced round the room and fell on the pocket-book on the table. He snatched it up, and slipped it into the breast of his tunic. He had scarcely done it--one button of his tunic was still to fasten--when the bedroom door opened, and Lupin came out:
"What do you want?" he said sharply; and his keen eyes scanned the porter with a disquieting penetration.
"I've brought a letter to the Duke of Charmerace, to be given into his own hands," said Bonavent, in a disguised voice.
"Give it to me," said Lupin, holding out his hand.
"But the Duke?" said Bonavent, hesitating.
"I am the Duke," said Lupin.
Bonavent gave him the letter, and turned to go.
"Don't go," said Lupin quietly. "Wait, there may be an answer."
There was a faint glitter in his eyes; but Bonavent missed it.
Charolais came into the room, and said, in a grumbling tone, "A run-away knock. I wish I could catch the brats; I'd warm them. They wouldn't go fetching me away from my work again, in a hurry, I can tell you."
Lupin opened the letter, and read it. As he read it, at first he frowned; then he smiled; and then he laughed joyously. It ran:
"SIR,"
"M. Guerchard has told me everything. With regard to Sonia I have judged you: a man who loves a thief can be nothing but a rogue. I have two pieces of news to announce to you: the death of the Duke of Charmerace, who died three years ago, and my intention of becoming engaged to his cousin and heir, M. de Relzieres, who will assume the title and the arms."
"For Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin," "Her maid, IRMA."
"She does write in shocking bad taste," said Lupin, shaking his head sadly. "Charolais, sit down and write a letter for me."
"Me?" said Charolais.
"Yes; you. It seems to be the fashion in financial circles; and I am bound to follow it when a lady sets it. Write me a letter," said Lupin.
Charolais went to the writing-table reluctantly, sat down, set a sheet of paper on the blotter, took a pen in his hand, and sighed painfully.
"Ready?" said Lupin; and he dictated:
"MADEMOISELLE,"
"I have a very robust constitution, and my indisposition will very soon be over. I shall have the honour of sending, this afternoon, my humble wedding present to the future Madame de Relzieres."
"For Jacques de Bartut, Marquis de Relzieres, Prince of Virieux, Duke of Charmerace."
"His butler, ARSENE."
"Shall I write Arsene?" said Charolais, in a horrified tone.
"Why not?" said Lupin. "It's your charming name, isn't it?"
Bonavent pricked up his ears, and looked at Charolais with a new interest.
Charolais shrugged his shoulders, finished the letter, blotted it, put it in an envelope, addressed it, and handed it to Lupin.
"Take this to Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin," said Lupin, handing it to Bonavent.
Bonavent took the letter, turned, and had taken one step towards the door when Lupin sprang. His arm went round the detective's neck; he jerked him backwards off his feet, scragging him.
"Stir, and I'll break your neck!" he cried in a terrible voice; and then he said quietly to Charolais, "Just take my pocket-book out of this fellow's tunic."
Charolais, with deft fingers, ripped open the detective's tunic, and took out the pocket-book.
"This is what they call Jiu-jitsu, old chap! You'll be able to teach it to your colleagues," said Lupin. He loosed his grip on Bonavent, and knocked him straight with a thump in the back, and sent him flying across the room. Then he took the pocket-book from Charolais and made sure that its contents were untouched.
"Tell your master from me that if he wants to bring me down he'd better fire the gun himself," said Lupin contemptuously. "Show the gentleman out, Charolais."
Bonavent staggered to the door, paused, and turned on Lupin a face livid with fury.
"He will be here himself in ten minutes," he said.
"Many thanks for the information," said Lupin quietly.
CHAPTER XXII
THE BARGAIN