"The Duke," he told me impressively, "is one of the richest men in England. He spends money in a princely fashion but he has never yet succeeded in spending half his income. What about a game of snooker—you and Cotton, too, if he likes? We are breaking up after this. Sir Charles wants to dance."
I left Cotton there and went in search of Rose. I found her on the balcony in our own sitting room, looking down at the guests—strange, picturesque figures as they strolled about the moon-dappled lawn, listening to the music.
"Maurice," she asked me, as I sank into a chair by her side, "have you found out yet what we are here for?"
"I haven't the faintest idea," I replied. "The chief has been even less communicative than usual. It seems to have something to do with the jewels and that is all I know."
"You don't think," she went on nervously, "that by any chance we are sent here to aid in any attempt to steal them?"
"No, I don't think that," I assured her. "Where the chief stands sometimes I can't quite make up my mind, but I don't think a jewel robbery, even on such a scale as this, is quite in his line. If our presence here has anything to do with jewels at all, and I think it has," I added, dropping my voice, "I should say that we were here indirectly to aid their guardians."
"Then why doesn't the Duke mention it to us?" she asked curiously.
"It's beyond me," I confessed.
She laid her hand upon my arm and drew me very near indeed.
"Maurice," she whispered, "there's something wrong about Faraday."