"Now what I want to know is this: can you find out something about this Duke fellow—the man at 64? I'm pretty sure he's a rotter, and I'm absolutely certain that he has documents in his house that would prove, beyond any doubt, what an out and out rotter he is."
It was a task after the detective's heart: internally he was ecstatically jubilant; outwardly he was seemingly unaffected. He walked to his little desk, and with a great display of keys opened a drawer, taking therefrom a locked book. Again the flourish of keys and the volume was opened.
A fluttering of leaves and——
"Ha! here it is," said the detective gravely, "I have already noted him: George Francisco Louis Duc de Montvillier, Marquis Poissant Lens, Baron (of the Roman Empire) de Piento——"
"Oh, I know all that," interrupted the practical Hal, "you've copied it out of the Almanac de Gotha."
Mr. Nape was disconcerted, but dignified. He tried to think of some crushing rejoinder, but, failing, he contented himself with a slight bow.
"It isn't the question of who he was or who his father was," said Hal testily, "any fool could find that out."
Mr. Nape bowed again.
"What we—I, do want information about is"—Hal hesitated—"well, as a matter of fact, this is how the matter stands. We want to know what he is going to do—that's it!"
Mr. Nape looked thoughtful as this tribute to his prescience was paid.