“Lord, Pom, don’t be such a—Wait a bit, though! Masked?” The Viscount slapped his leg. “That’s given it to me! Blister it, you’re the rogue who tried to hold me up on Shooter’s Hill once!”
The burly man, who had changed colour, slid towards the door, muttering: “No, I never did so! It’s a lie!”
“Lord, I don’t bear you any malice,” said the Viscount cheerfully. “You got nothing from me.”
“A highwayman, is he?” said Sir Roland with interest. Devilish queer company Lethbridge keeps! Devilish queer!”
“H’m!” remarked Captain Heron, surveying the burly man with scant approval. “I can guess what your business is with his lordship, my man.”
“Can you?” said Sir Roland. “Well, what is it?”
“Use your wits,” said Captain Heron unkindly. “I should like very much to give him up to the Watch, but I suppose we can’t.” He turned to the butler. “I want you to cast your mind back. The night before last a brooch was lost in this house. Do you recall finding it?”
The butler seemed pleased to be able to answer at least one question. “No, sir, I don’t. There wasn’t a brooch found in this house. His lordship asked me particularly whether it had been picked up, just after that gentleman called yesterday.” He nodded towards Sir Roland.
“What’s that?” ejaculated the Viscount. “Did you say after he called?”
“I did, my lord. His lordship sent for me not more than a minute or so after the gentleman had left the house.”