"Those notes."
"Yes, the ten thousand pounds."
Captain Manuel placed a package on the table. "Here are the bank-notes." he said in excited tones, "returned to me last night."
CHAPTER XIX
[ANOTHER PUZZLE]
Decidedly, this case was full of surprises; and Torry, with all his life-long experience, could recall no affair in connection with which so many unexpected things had happened. The reappearance of the long-lost bank notes was not the least of these strange occurrences. Both detective and secretary were so startled that they could only stare stupidly at the parcel lying before them on the table, and wait to hear what Captain Manuel had to say. The Spaniard sat down, and lost no time in detailing how the lost property had come again into his possession.
"Yes," said he, twisting his moustache, "it is really strange. I stay, as you know, Mr. Policeman, at the Guelph Hotel, Jermyn-street. Well, last night, on nine of the clock, a parcel--that parcel--was given to the porter of the house by a stranger, with a word to give it to me. I was amusing myself at the theatre, and not until midnight did I return to find this"--he pointed to the package--"in my room, on the table. I open it, I find the money of my society, so I am much astonished. All night I sleep not, but I wonder. This morning, I go to the office of Mr. Policeman, but he is out. Then I come to tell Mr. Vass that the lost money is with me, and I find Mr. Policeman is here. I enter, I tell my story, and--voilà tout, finished Manuel, with a French expression and French grace."
"How strange," said Vass, who appeared to be fascinated by Manuel's recital.
"Most extraordinary," chimed in Torry, with his eyes fixed on the parcel of bank notes. He was trying to fathom the meaning of this restoration of stolen property, but could not. The thought crossed his mind that Manuel might have stolen the money himself, and was playing the comedy of restoration to save himself from figuring as a corpse with a tomb-image beside him. But, then, the Captain had no need to become a thief, since the money continued always in his possession; and, if he had risked his neck to get it, he certainly would not thus tamely surrender his plunder. No! it was not Manuel who was the thief; but Torry could not conjecture who was. Nor could he fathom the motive of the thief in thus making restitution. It was inexplicable.
"What do you make of it, sir?" asked Manuel, looking at Torry's thoughtful face.