“Dominique, who has been my valet for twenty years,” replied the baron. “Any search in that direction would be a waste of time.”
“One never wastes his time when engaged in a search,” said Wilson, sententiously.
This preliminary investigation now ended, and Sholmes asked permission to retire.
At dinner, an hour later, he saw Sophie and Henriette, the two children of the family, one was six and the other eight years of age. There was very little conversation at the table. Sholmes responded to the friendly advances of his hosts in such a curt manner that they were soon reduced to silence. When the coffee was served, Sholmes swallowed the contents of his cup, and rose to take his leave.
At that moment, a servant entered with a telephone message addressed to Sholmes. He opened it, and read:
“You have my enthusiastic admiration. The results attained by you in so short a time are simply marvellous. I am dismayed.
“ARSÈNE LUPIN.”
Sholmes made a gesture of indignation and handed the message to the baron, saying:
“What do you think now, monsieur? Are the walls of your house furnished with eyes and ears?”
“I don’t understand it,” said the baron, in amazement.