“Yes, it’s very interesting,” he said. “In the last quarter of an hour you’ve practically discovered that the burglars came from Charmerace—that they were the Charolais—that they came in by the front door of this house, and carried the furniture out of it.”
“I don’t know about their coming in by it,” said Guerchard. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, they came in by the front door of M. Gournay-Martin’s house.”
“Of course,” said the Duke. “I was forgetting. They brought the keys from Charmerace.”
“Yes, but who drew the bolts for them?” said Guerchard. “The concierge bolted them before he went to bed. He told me so. He was telling the truth—I know when that kind of man is telling the truth.”
“By Jove!” said the Duke softly. “You mean that they had an accomplice?”
“I think we shall find that they had an accomplice. But your Grace is beginning to draw inferences with uncommon quickness. I believe that you would make a first-class detective yourself—with practice, of course—with practice.”
“Can I have missed my true career?” said the Duke, smiling. “It’s certainly a very interesting game.”
“Well, I’m not going to search this barracks myself,” said Guerchard. “I’ll send in a couple of men to do it; but I’ll just take a look at the steps myself.”
So saying, he opened the front door and went out and examined the steps carefully.
“We shall have to go back the way we came,” he said, when he had finished his examination. “The drawing-room door is locked. We ought to find M. Formery hammering on it.” And he smiled as if he found the thought pleasing.