"It is here," he said.
Duncombe turned to Monsieur Louis.
"My arrest, then," he remarked, "was part of the game?"
"Exactly!" De Bergillac answered. "This little document entrusted to your care by the young English lady was worth one million francs to the man who suborned our friend here. It was worth while—this little enterprise. The pity of it is that it has failed. Sir George, I go to Paris to-night. I offer you a safe conduct if you care to accompany me. L'affaire Poynton does not exist any more."
"Can you give me ten minutes to change my clothes?" Duncombe asked eagerly.
"No more," De Bergillac answered. "I will get rid of our friend here."
There was a knock at the door. Groves entered with coffee. At the sight of his master he nearly dropped the tray.
"It's all right," Duncombe said, smiling. "We had a little spill, and I've lost my bag. Pack me some more things quickly."
"Very good, sir," Groves answered, and withdrew precipitately.