“I am quite sure that I shall be more useful to Mr. Peterson at large, than I am cooped up here,” said Hugh. “I might even lead him to this hidden treasure which he thinks I’ve got.”
“You will do that all right,” remarked Peterson. “But at the moment I was wondering whether a little persuasion now—might not give me all the information I require more quickly and with less trouble.”
A fleeting vision of a mangled, pulplike thumb flashed across Hugh’s mind; once again he heard that hideous cry, half animal, half human, which had echoed through the darkness the preceding night, and for an instant his breath came a little faster. Then he smiled, and shook his head.
“I think you are rather too good a judge of human nature to try anything so foolish,” he said thoughtfully. “You see, unless you kill me, which I don’t think would suit your book, you might find explanations a little difficult to-morrow.”
For a while there was silence in the room, broken at length by a short laugh from Peterson.
“For a young man truly your perspicacity is great,” he remarked. “Irma, is the blue room ready? If so, tell Luigi to show Captain Drummond to it.”
“I will show him myself,” she answered, rising. “And then I shall go to bed. Mon Dieu! my Hugh, but I find your country très ennuyeux.” She stood in front of him for a moment, and then led the way to the door, glancing at him over her shoulder.
Hugh saw a quick look of annoyance pass over Peterson’s face as he turned to follow the girl, and it struck him that that gentleman was not best pleased at the turn of events. It vanished almost as soon as it came, and Peterson waved a friendly hand at him, as if the doings of the night had been the most ordinary thing in the world. Then the door closed, and he followed his guide up the stairs.
The house was beautifully furnished. Hugh was no judge of art, but even his inexperienced eye could see that the prints on the walls were rare and valuable. The carpets were thick, and his feet sank into them noiselessly; the furniture was solid and in exquisite taste. And it was as he reached the top of the stairs that a single deep-noted clock rang a wonderful chime and then struck the hour. The time was just three o’clock.
The girl opened the door of a room and switched on the light. Then she faced him smiling, and Hugh looked at her steadily. He had no wish whatever for any conversation, but as she was standing in the centre of the doorway it was impossible for him to get past her without being rude.