He accordingly rose, dressed himself quietly, and, with one cautious look at Philip—who was fast asleep—descended the stairs to the office.
Only the bookkeeper was in the office.
“You are stirring early, professor,” he said.
“Yes,” answered Riccabocca, “I generally take a morning walk, to get an appetite for breakfast.”
“My appetite comes without the walk,” said the bookkeeper, smiling.
“If Mr. de Gray comes downstairs, please tell him I will be back soon,” said Riccabocca.
The bookkeeper readily promised to do this, not having the slightest suspicion that the distinguished professor was about to take French leave.
When Professor Riccabocca had walked half a mile he began to feel faint. His appetite had come.
“I wish I had stopped to breakfast,” he reflected. “I don’t believe De Gray will be down for an hour or two.”
It was too late to go back and repair his mistake. That would spoil all. He saw across the street a baker’s shop, just opening for the day, and this gave him an idea.