Then there was a hint that a constable had been summoned, and it would be best to name his accomplices.
“How came you by the bond?” repeated Mr Drummond.
At last the bewildered Mr Perreau seemed to realise the gravity of his position.
“That will appear,” he replied, in answer to the last remark, “if you will send for my sister.”
“Who may she be?”
“Why, my brother Mr Daniel Perreau’s wife.”
Calling his servant, the apothecary bade him take the coach for his sister-in-law, who, he said, might be at her home in Harley Street, but most likely with his wife at his own house in Golden Square. It was evident that the carriage did not go farther than the latter direction, for in a short time it brought back the lady, who was ushered into the room. Then indeed the hearts of those three hard-pated men of finance must have been softened, for their eyes could have rested upon no more dazzling vision of feminine loveliness within the British Isles. Of medium height, her figure was shaped in the robust lines of graceful womanhood, but the face, which beamed with an expression of childish innocence, seemed the daintiest of miniatures, with tiny, shell-like features, and the clearest and fairest skin. In the fashion of the time her hair was combed upward, revealing a high forehead, and the ample curls which fell on either side towards her neck nestled beneath the smallest of ears. Without a tinge of colour, her complexion was relieved only by her red lips, but the healthy pallor served to heighten her radiant beauty. A thin tight ribbon encircled her slender neck. Below the elbow the close sleeves of her polonese terminated in little tufts of lace, while long gloves concealed her round, plump arms. Dress, under the influence of art, was beginning to cast off its squalor.
Grasping the situation in a moment, this lovely Mrs Daniel Perreau asked if she might speak with her brother-in-law alone, but the request was refused. Then the beauty, making full use of her shining blue eyes, besought Mr Adair to grant her a private interview. But the old man—not such a gay dog as kinsman Robin—was proof against these blandishments.
“You are quite a stranger to me,” he answered, “and you can have no conversation that does not pass before these gentlemen.”
For a short time the beautiful woman appeared incapable of reason. At last she seemed to make a sudden decision.