"Quite. You have done nothing to interfere with his coming or going, I trust."
"Nothing."
Stapleton glanced at the clock. "He will be here very soon, now. May I ask you to wait in my study, upstairs? It would never do for you to be here. The man might be afraid to enter."
"No—you are right. I must not be here. But I prefer not to wait in the study. I have another plan."
"What is it?" inquired the banker, uneasily.
"Where is François, your chauffeur?"
"At his dinner, I believe. Why?"
"Will you kindly find out for sure? I want to go to his room."
Mr. Stapleton summoned a servant, who told him that the chauffeur was just finishing his dinner. "You will be very careful, Duvall," he said, anxiously. "I don't want anything done which will alarm these fellows."
"Oh, François won't see me. I shall keep out of his sight. Perhaps I had better go up now." He nodded to the banker, and at once ascended the stairs which lead to the servants' quarters.