Their eyes turned to the clock.
To Guerchard the hands seemed to be standing still. He could have sworn at them for their slowness.
Then the first stroke rang out; and the eyes of the two men met like crossing blades. Twice the Duke made the slightest movement. Twice Guerchard started forward to meet it.
At the last stroke both their hands shot out. Guerchard’s fell heavily on the case which held the coronet. The Duke’s fell on the brim of his hat; and he picked it up.
Guerchard gasped and choked. Then he cried triumphantly:
“I HAVE it; now then, have I won? Have I been fooled this time? Has Lupin got the coronet?”
“It doesn’t look like it. But are you quite sure?” said the Duke gaily.
“Sure?” cried Guerchard.
“It’s only the weight of it,” said the Duke, repressing a laugh. “Doesn’t it strike you that it’s just a trifle light?”
“What?” cried Guerchard.