Gerald Burton, much as he now disliked and suspected Monsieur and Madame Poulain, could not but feel sorry for them when he saw the manner in which those hitherto respectable and self-respecting folk were treated by the Police Agent who, with two subordinates, had been entrusted with the task of searching the Hôtel Saint Ange.
The American was also surprised to see the eagerness with which the
Poulains had welcomed his presence at their unpleasant ordeal.
"Thank you for coming, Monsieur Gerald; but where is Monsieur le Sénateur?" asked Madame Poulain feverishly. "He promised—he absolutely promised us that he would be here this morning!"
"My father has had to go out," said Gerald courteously, "but I am here to represent both him and Mrs. Dampier."
A heavy frown gathered over the landlady's face. "Ah!" she muttered, "it was a dark day for us when we allowed that lady to enter our hotel!"
Gerald, putting a strong restraint on his tongue, remained silent, but a moment later, as if in answer to his feeling of exasperation and anger, he heard the Police Agent's voice raised in sarcastic wrath. "I must ask you to produce the plan before I begin my Perquisition."
"But, monsieur," exclaimed the hotel-keeper piteously, "I cannot give you a plan of our hotel! How should we have such a thing? The house is said to be three hundred years old. We have even been told it should be classed as an Historical Monument!"
"Every hotel-keeper is bound to have a plan of his hotel," said the Agent roughly. "And I shall report you for not complying with the law. If a plan of the Hôtel Saint Ange did not exist, it was your duty to have one made at your own expense."
"Bien, bien, monsieur! It shall be done," said Poulain resignedly.
"To have a Perquisition without a plan is a farce!" said the man, this time addressing Gerald Burton. "An absolute farce! In such an old house as this there may be many secret hiding-places."