Bernadine opened the door and called softly to one of his men. In less than five minutes De Grost was bound hand and foot. Bernadine stepped back and eyed his adversary with an air of ill-disguised triumph.
“I trust, Baron,” he said, “that you will be as comfortable as possible, under the circumstances.”
De Grost lay quite still. He was powerless to move or speak.
“Immediately,” Bernadine continued, “I have presented myself at your house, verified your safe conduct, and helped myself to certain papers which I am exceedingly anxious to obtain,” he went on, “I shall telephone here to the man whom I leave in charge and you will be set at liberty in due course. If, for any reason, I meet with treachery and I do not telephone, you will join Mr. Greening and his young companion in a little—shall we call it aquatic recreation? I wish you a pleasant hour and success in the future, Baron—as a farmer.”
Bernadine withdrew and whispered his orders to his men. Soon the electric light was turned out and the place was in darkness. The front door was opened and closed; the group of confederates upon the pavement lit cigarettes and wished one another good night with the brisk air of tired employees, released at last from long labors. Then there was silence.
It was barely eleven when Bernadine reached the west end of London. His clothes had become a trifle disarranged and he called for a few minutes at his rooms in St. James’s Street. Afterwards, he walked to Porchester House and rang the bell. To the servant who answered it, he handed his master’s card.
“Will you show me the way to the library?” he asked. “I have some papers to collect for the Baron de Grost.”
The man hesitated. Even with the card in his hand, it seemed a somewhat unusual proceeding.
“Will you step inside, sir?” he begged. “I should like to show this to the Baroness. The master is exceedingly particular about any one entering his study.”
“Do what you like so long as you do not keep me waiting,” Bernadine replied. “Your master’s instructions are clear enough.”