Chaytor uttered no word, and followed Gilbert into the passage. The old man carefully locked the door, and the two men stood in darkness a moment, listening. Then the master of Villa Bidaud turned the handle of the door of the sitting-room, and stepping towards the window, closed the shutters through which no chink of light could be seen from without. Having thus secured themselves from observation, he struck a match and lit a lamp, which threw a bright light around. In a basket by the sideboard were some bottles of red wine, and glasses and corkscrew were handy. Gilbert uncorked a bottle and put glasses on the table.
"Will you drink?" he asked.
"Have you nothing stronger than this stuff?" asked Chaytor, in reply.
"There is a bottle of brandy somewhere," said Gilbert, opening a door in the sideboard. "Ah, here it is. I am glad that am able to accommodate you. I am always glad to accommodate my friends."
Chaytor half filled a tumbler with the spirit, and drank it neat. His companion took the bottle, and replaced it in the cupboard.
"You are a generous host," observed Chaytor.
"It is not that," said Gilbert, genially. "It is that you need your wits to understand my plain meaning. Will you sit or stand?"
"I will do as I please."
"Do so. Your pleasure is a law to me. Pardon me a moment's consideration. I am debating by what name to address you."
"My name is Basil Whittingham, as you well know."