"I waited to see you first."
"You had better do so. They have a description of Lambert, I suppose?"
"I rather think not."
"Send it then."
"What, by wire?"
"Yes;—but wait,—do it through the French detective. I don't want to appear in the matter. They were rather taken with the notion that Lambert himself had made away with his daughter?"
"At first, yes; but the last time I saw M. Claude he seemed to have quite given up the idea."
"You never know what he thinks. Now, what has your journey cost you?"
"I don't care to take any money at present; I will write when——"
"No," interrupted Deering, imperiously, "no letters—I will neither write nor receive them—a telegram, if absolutely necessary. If you have anything to tell, come and tell it, you can always find my address at the Club, and never give up the search. Here are twenty sovereigns,—I have no more gold about me, and I'll not give you notes,—take them, I insist. It suits me better to pay when I have the opportunity. Remember—the sum originally promised if you can find her dead, double if you find her alive. Now you may go—stop—wait till the servant comes." Vincent paused, and as the door opened, Deering said distinctly in courteous tones, "I am very much obliged to you for taking the trouble to call—I am interested in your search—and wish you all success. Good-morning."