He caught the millionaire by the arm, hurried him through the outer hall, opened the big door of the château, and said: “Now shout!”
The millionaire looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and said: “You don’t beat about the bush when you want anything.”
“Why should I?” said the Duke simply. “Shout, my good chap—shout!”
The millionaire raised his voice in a terrific bellow of “Jean! Jean! Firmin! Firmin!”
There was no answer.
CHAPTER VII
THE THEFT OF THE MOTOR-CARS
The night was very black; the rain pattered in their faces.
Again the millionaire bellowed: “Jean! Firmin! Firmin! Jean!”
No answer came out of the darkness, though his bellow echoed and re-echoed among the out-buildings and stables away on the left.
He turned and looked at the Duke and said uneasily, “What on earth can they be doing?”