Oddly enough, the note with which I was received bore some relation to that cheerfulness, for I was admitted to the tune of tremulous laughter. It was Ellison who let me in, but the laughter did not proceed from him. Half-way down the corridor was Sir John in animated conversation with Mademoiselle. At least, the animation was on her part, for he was decorously stolid, and favoured me with a nod.
"Managed it, then, Phillimore. Good for you," he said with amiable patronage. "I though it was all up when I heard that shot. But Mademoiselle put her money on you."
"Ah, was I not right?" she asked archly in her pretty English. "I know the doctor. He is an old friend of mine."
She was dressed in a smart morning gown, somewhat open at the throat, and her admirable voice seemed to encompass us in its sympathy. One could not but feel pleased and flattered by her faith. I smiled.
"I am glad to say that Legrand's safe, but hors de combat," I went on. "Perhaps not for long. We may have a surprise in store for us. At any rate, Holgate does not know everything. He's a little too clever, to my mind."
"Oh, I wish they were all hanged, and dead," broke out Mademoiselle, with an impatient gesticulation.
"They will be in due time," said Barraclough.
"Tell me, Sir John, tell me, doctor, is there any danger?" she asked vivaciously.
Sir John was ever deliberate, and I anticipated him.
"None, or very little at present, I think."