"Yes, of course. It has turned out much simpler than we expected, however, thanks to your immense reputation, father. Without your name we could not have done it, could we, gentlemen?" he asked, turning to the detectives as though appealing to them.
"No, guess not," answered the three together.
"Good God, what a scene!" exclaimed Brett under his breath.
"Mr. Brett," said Marion approaching him. "You said you wanted to speak to my husband. Now you must tell me all about it, father," she continued, drawing the old gentleman towards the fire. "I do not half understand in all this confusion."
"Why it is as plain as day, child," said Simon Darche, ever ready to explain a matter of business. "The second mortgage of a million and a half to square everything. Come here, come close to the fire, my hands are cold. I think I must have been ill."
"You would never think Mr. Darche had been ill, would you, gentlemen?" asked Marion, appealing again to the detectives.
"No, guess not," they answered in chorus.
Meanwhile Brett led Darche across the room, talking to him in a loud tone until they were near the door.
"Your wife will make some diversion presently," he whispered. "I do not know how. When she does, make for that door and get out."
"Thank you, thank you," said John with genuine fervour, and his face lighted up. "God bless you, Brett!"