There was a movement in the room at once, and the door opened. "Ah! It is the good Holmes!" said Bertrand. "I thought that it was Monsieur Noel. What is it, then? You bring me a message?"
He looked at the man with sleepless eyes that shone curiously bright. In the room behind him a portmanteau, half-filled, lay upon the floor.
For a single instant Holmes hesitated before delivering his message. Then he gave it punctiliously, word for word.
"I am obliged to you," said Bertrand courteously. "I shall go to Mrs.
Mordaunt at once."
He crossed the threshold therewith, but paused a moment outside the room.
"Holmes," he said, "I go to London by the 11.50. Will you arrange for my luggage to be taken to the station?"
Holmes's well-ordered countenance expressed no surprise. "Very good, sir.
And you yourself, sir?" he said.
"I shall walk," said Bertrand.
"You would like me to finish packing for you, sir?" suggested Holmes.
"Ah! That would be very good." Bertrand's voice expressed relief. He stepped back into the room to slip a sovereign into the man's hand.