Yes,
I have made my mind up. I shall go to-morrow and secure such a man
at once at Marvillier's."
"If you please, Sir Charles," Cesarine interposed, pushing her head
through the portiere, "her ladyship says, will you and Mr. Wentworth
remember that she goes out with you both this evening to Lady
Carisbrooke's?"
"Bless my soul," Charles cried, "so she does! And it's now past ten!
The carriage will be at the door for us in another five minutes!"
Next morning, accordingly, Charles drove round to Marvillier's. The
famous detective listened to his story with glistening eyes; then he
rubbed his hands and purred. "Colonel Clay!" he said; "Colonel Clay!
That's a very tough customer! The police of Europe are on the
look-out for Colonel Clay. He is wanted in London, in Paris, in
Berlin. It is le Colonel Caoutchouc here, le Colonel Caoutchouc
there; till one begins to ask, at last, IS there _any_ Colonel
Caoutchouc, or is it a convenient class name invented by the Force
to cover a gang of undiscovered sharpers? However, Sir Charles, we
will do our best. I will set on the track without delay the best and
cleverest detective in England."
"The very man I want," Charles said. "What name, Marvillier?"
The principal smiled. "Whatever name you like," he said.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159