Jack Denningham stared for a moment. But he was not slow to catch the drift of the other's meaning.
"The Citizen Varenac?" he echoed. "A charming idea, Marcel, only a trifle difficult to practise."
"Difficult?"
"You forget I have been living here as Lord Denningham. The old curmudgeon, Pierre Koustak, would give me away. He is Royalist and Varenac to the backbone, and a gentleman of influence in these parts, if I mistake not."
Trouet shrugged his shoulders.
"Ah, my friend, that is all easy enough. Where is this Pierre Koustak?"
"Below, no doubt, in the pantry, or poking his nose where it is not wanted."
"Let him come here. We will deal with him according to justice."
"Justice!"
"Eh bien! There is a man lying murdered in the library of the Manor of Varenac. We find him here, you and I. Who can be suspected but the only man in the house? It is without doubt the work of a villain. We will name that villain Pierre Koustak. You understand?"