“Firmin! Firmin! Charmerace! Charmerace!” he bellowed again.
The Duke came quietly into the hall, dressed in a heavy motor-coat, his motor-cap on his head, and carrying a kit-bag in his hand.
“Did I hear you call?” he said.
“Call?” said the millionaire. “I shouted. The burglars are here already. I’ve just seen one of them. He was bolting through the middle window.”
The Duke raised his eyebrows.
“Nerves,” he said gently—“nerves.”
“Nerves be hanged!” said the millionaire. “I tell you I saw him as plainly as I see you.”
“Well, you can’t see me at all, seeing that you’re lighting an acre and a half of hall with a single lamp,” said the Duke, still in a tone of utter incredulity.
“It’s that fool Firmin! He ought to have lighted six. Firmin! Firmin!” bellowed the millionaire.
They listened for the sonorous clumping of the promoted gamekeeper’s boots, but they did not hear it. Evidently Firmin was still giving his master’s instructions about the cars to Jean.