"And the long and the short of it was," said Alfred, with a sudden acceleration of his narrative, "that he offers me a hundred pound down to leave that instant minute and to look after this here club. He wanted someone as was used to the best families—to give the place a tone, as he put it. And, well, it seemed flying in the face of providence to refuse—let alone that the wages I get here are just three times what they were as second footman."
"A hundred pounds," said Bundle. "That's a very large sum, Alfred. Did they say anything about who was to fill your place at Chimneys?"
"I demurred a bit, my lady, about leaving at once. As I pointed out, it wasn't usual and might cause inconvenience. But Mr. Mosgorovsky, he knew of a young chap—been in good service and ready to come any minute. So I mentioned his name to Mr. Tredwell and everything was settled pleasant like."
Bundle nodded. Her own suspicions had been correct and the modus operandi was much as she had thought it to be. She essayed a further inquiry.
"Who is Mr. Mosgorovsky?"
"Gentleman as runs this club. Russian gentleman. A very clever gentleman too."
Bundle abandoned the getting of information for the moment and proceeded to other matters.
"A hundred pounds is a very large sum of money, Alfred."
"Larger than I ever handled, my lady," said Alfred with simple candour.
"Did you never suspect that there was something wrong?"