Why was he so pleased? Had I really enlightened him on the danger of keeping Donovan, ill, away from his family? I found it devilish hard to believe that. And then, that laugh of Lerne’s, even though sincere, seemed to have a nasty quality. It could only be caused by his having a chance of playing some dirty trick.
But, whatever the reason was, I showed the same delight as the Professor, and that without any guile, for I had every good ground for it.
They arrived one morning in a trap, hired at Grey, and driven by Karl. They resembled one another, and both resembled Donovan of the photograph. They were tall, pale and impassive.
Lerne introduced me with perfect ease of manner. They shook hands with me coldly, with the same glove-clad gesture. One would have said that they had put gloves over their souls.
Having been ushered into the little drawing room, they sat down without a word.
With his three assistants present, Lerne began a long speech in English, full of movement, illustrated by mimic gestures, and very emotional.
At a certain point in his story, he pretended to tumble back like somebody who had slipped. Then, taking the two men by the arm, he led them to the central door of the château, near the park.
There he pointed out to them the scraper, shaped like a sickle and then, once more went through the tumbling farce. No doubt he was explaining to them that Donovan had been wounded by the curved blade which cut his head when he fell backwards.
Good Lord! this was something new!