Again de Montville looked at him doubtfully. "I wish that I could recall—" he said.
"You will presently," Mordaunt assured him. "In the meantime, it really doesn't matter, and it is not the time for explanations. I am very glad to have met you. You surely will not refuse to be my guest for a few hours."
He spoke with the utmost kindness, but also with inflexible determination. The Frenchman still looked dubious, but quite obviously he did not feel equal to a battle of wills with his resolute host. He uttered a sigh and said no more.
He firmly declined the assistance of Mordaunt's man, however, and it was Mordaunt himself who waited upon him, ignoring protest, till his shivering protégé was safe in bed.
He seemed to resign himself to his fate then, being too exhausted to do otherwise. A heavy drowsiness came upon him, and he very soon fell into a doze.
Mordaunt sat in an adjoining room, opening and answering letters. His demeanour was quite serene. Save that he paused now and then and leaned back in his chair to listen, there was nothing about him to indicate that anything unusual had taken place.
It was nearing midnight when his man came softly in with a cup of beef-tea.
"All right, Holmes! I'll see to him. You can go to bed," he said then.
Holmes paused. "I've made up the bed in the spare-room, sir," he said.
"Oh, thanks! I shall not want it though. I will sleep on the sofa here."