Hanaud came to a stop in front of Jim Frobisher. Then he burst into a low laugh.
"I will bet you all the money in the world that that is not true, and then Madame Harlowe's pearl necklace on the top of it. For after all it was not I who brought the arrow to Jean Cladel, whereas it was undoubtedly I who put back the treatise on the shelf."
Jim took a step back. He stared at Hanaud with his mouth open in a stupefaction.
"You?" he exclaimed.
"I," replied Hanaud, standing up on the tips of his toes. "Alone I did it."
Then his manner of burlesque dropped from him. He looked up at the shuttered windows with a sudden anxiety.
"That animal is taking longer than he need," he muttered. "After all, it is not to a court ball of the Duke of Burgundy that we are inviting him."
He rang the bell again with a greater urgency. It returned its shrill reply as though it mocked him.
"I do not like this," said Hanaud.
He seized the door-handle and leaned his shoulder against the panel and drove his weight against it. But the door was strong and did not give. Hanaud put his fingers to his mouth and whistled softly. From the direction whence they had come they heard the sound of a man running swiftly. They saw him pass within the light of the one street lamp at the corner and out of it again; and then he stood at their side. Jim recognised Nicolas Moreau, the little agent who had been sent this very morning by Hanaud to make sure that Jean Cladel existed.