But tracked out how he did it.
That is already much--to unravel Colonel Clay, gentlemen!"
"Well, what do you make of it?" Sir Charles asked, crestfallen.
The Commissary sat down and gloated over his discovery. It was
clear a well-planned crime amused him vastly. "In the first place,
monsieur," he said, "disabuse your mind of the idea that when
monsieur your secretary went out to fetch Senor Herrera that night,
Senor Herrera didn't know to whose rooms he was coming. Quite
otherwise, in point of fact. I do not doubt myself that Senor
Herrera, or Colonel Clay (call him which you like), came to Nice
this winter for no other purpose than just to rob you."
"But I sent for him," my brother-in-law interposed.
"Yes; he _meant_ you to send for him. He forced a card, so to
speak. If he couldn't do that I guess he would be a pretty poor
conjurer. He had a lady of his own--his wife, let us say, or his
sister--stopping here at this hotel; a certain Madame Picardet.
Through her he induced several ladies of your circle to attend his
seances. She and they spoke to you about him, and aroused your
curiosity. You may bet your bottom dollar that when he came to
this room he came ready primed and prepared with endless facts
about both of you."
"What fools we have been, Sey," my brother-in-law exclaimed.
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