The Earl was an easy-going and good-natured cuss, without the narrow prejudices of his snobbish friends, and readily promised not to tell anybody about it. He also simply grinned when Tooter told him that Teresa had just promised to marry him, and said his revered uncle-in-law would have to assume the job of telling his niece that she would have to find a new maid.
In a few minutes Holmes rejoined us as if nothing had happened, and we forbore from kidding him about it.
"Well, the next victim I am going to jump onto is your valet, Your Lordship, and I think I'm going to strike pay dirt this time," were his first words. "Where is the rascal now?"
"He's over in my room, sorting out my clothes," said the Earl.
"All right. Come on, Watson, we'll nail him before he gets away from the scene of his crime."
Whereupon I accompanied Holmes across the corridor to the room back of the drawing-room, which was the Earl's.
Luigi was in there, engaged in laying out several suits of clothes on the bed. He looked up in surprise as we entered.
"Ah, Luigi, you haven't got any of the stolen cuff-buttons concealed up your sleeve there, have you? I would really hate to think that you had," remarked Holmes, grinning sardonically.
On hearing this thinly-veiled accusation Vermicelli's swarthy face got even blacker, if possible, than it generally was, and he snarled:
"No. I'm sick of hearing about them!"