I tore downstairs, jumped into the waiting taxi and returned to the Milan. I entered the private room with a grave face. Evidently I was only just in time. The rubber of bridge had been broken up and my guests were standing about in little groups talking. I closed the door behind me and held up my hand.
"Blanche," I announced—"Lady Enterdean—I am delighted to say I have recovered everything."
"My dear boy, how wonderfully clever of you!"
Lady Enterdean exclaimed. "How relieved I feel! Most satisfactory, I am sure."
She sat down promptly. There was a little murmur of voices. My guests gathered round me. I drew a long breath and continued on my mendacious career.
"I have been closeted with the manager," I explained. "It was one of the underwaiters—the little dark one who brought in the coffee. The temptation seems to have been too much for him. He confessed directly he was questioned. He has restored everything and I thought it best to have him simply turned off without any fuss. Here is your pig, Sir Blaydon; your pendant, Blanche; your brooch, Lady Enterdean. I am exceedingly sorry you should have had any anxiety—but all's well that ends well!" I wound up weakly.
Every one was talking cheerfully. The great topic now was one of ethics: Had I acted properly in not charging the waiter? Fortunately some one discovered a little later that it was twelve o'clock and my little party broke up.
CHAPTER VII—"ONE OF US"
I was not altogether surprised to receive, on the following morning before
I had finished breakfast, a visit from Reggie.
"Cheero!" he said brightly as he seated himself in my easy-chair and tapped the end of one of my cigarettes upon the tablecloth. "I haven't been up so early for months, but I had to find you before you went out— about these Bundercombes."