Mr. Caryll surrendered his breeches. His fine Holland shirt went next, his stockings and what other trifles he wore, until he stood as naked as Adam before the fall. Yet all in vain.
His garments were restored to him, one by one, and one by one, with Leduc's aid, he resumed them. Mr. Green was looking crestfallen.
“Are you satisfied?” inquired Mr. Caryll pleasantly, his good temper inexhaustible.
The spy looked at him with a moody eye, plucking thoughtfully at his lip with thumb and forefinger. Then he brightened suddenly. “There's your man,” said he, flashing a quick eye upon Leduc, who looked up with a quiet smile.
“True,” said Mr. Caryll, “and there's my portmantle above-stairs, and my saddle on my horse in the stables. It is even possible, for aught you know, that there may be a hollow tooth or two in my head. Pray let your search be thorough.”
Mr. Green considered him again. “If you had it, it would be upon your person.”
“Yet consider,” Mr. Caryll begged him, holding out his foot that Leduc might put on his shoe again, “I might have supposed that you would suppose that, and disposed accordingly. You had better investigate to the bitter end.”
Mr. Green's small eyes continued to scrutinize Leduc at intervals. The valet was a silent, serious-faced fellow. “I'll search your servant, leastways,” the spy announced.
“By all means. Leduc, I beg that you will place yourself at this interesting gentleman's disposal.”
What time Mr. Caryll, unaided now, completed the resumption of his garments, Leduc, silent and expressionless, submitted to being searched.