“Now we can find out the truth of it all!” he exclaimed.
“To find out truth,” remarked the Duke, “is never easy and not always desirable.”
“I understand that you are the Duke of Belleville?” asked the Inspector.
“Certainly,” said the Duke.
“Bosh!” said the young man. “Oh, you know me, Inspector Collins, and I know you, and I’m not going to try and play it on you any more. But this chap’s no more the Duke than I am, and I should have thought you might have known one of your own policemen!”
The Inspector turned upon him fiercely.
“None of your gab, Joe Simpson,” said he. Then turning to the Duke, he continued, “Do you charge the young woman with him, your Grace?” And he pointed significantly to the Queen Bess flagon, which the young lady carried in an affectionate grasp.
“This lady,” said the Duke, “has done me the honour of accepting a small token of my esteem. As for these men, I know nothing about them.” And he directed a significant glance at the young man. The young man answered his look. The policeman seemed to grow more easy in his mind. “Then you don’t charge any of them?” cried the Inspector, bewildered.
“Why, no,” answered the Duke. “And I suppose they none of them charge me?”
Nobody spoke. The Inspector took out a large red handkerchief and mopped his brow.