“She’s not gone off with anyone, has she? Not with that Colonial Johnny? I never liked the fellow and, from all I hear, there seems to be an idea floating around that he himself is the super crook. But I don’t quite see how that can be?”
“Why not?”
“Well, this King Victor was a French fellow, and Cade’s English enough.”
“You don’t happen to have heard that King Victor was an accomplished linguist, and, moreover, was half Irish?”
“Oh, Lord! Then that’s why he’s made himself scarce, is it?”
“I don’t know about his making himself scarce. He disappeared the day before yesterday, as you know. But this morning we got a wire from him, saying he would be down here at 9 P.M. to-night, and suggesting that Codders should be asked over. All these other people have turned up as well—asked by Mr. Cade.”
“It is a gathering,” said Bill, looking round. “One French detective by window, one English ditto by fireplace. Strong foreign element. The Stars and Stripes don’t seem to be represented?”
Bundle shook her head.
“Mr. Fish has disappeared into the blue. Virginia’s not here either. But every one else is assembled, and I have a feeling in my bones, Bill, that we are drawing very near to the moment when somebody says ‘James, the footman,’ and everything is revealed. We’re only waiting now for Anthony Cade to arrive.”
“He’ll never show up,” said Bill.