“So I understand. And the lame man who came in and spoke to her—who is he? Not a guest of the hotel, I am sure, since I have never seen him here before.”
“I do not know, Monsieur, who the gentleman is. It shall be the first I shall see of him ever. It may be, however, that he is a new arrival. They would know at the office, if Monsieur le Baron desires me to inquire.”
“Yes—do. I fancy I have seen him before. Find out for me who he is.”
Philippe disappeared like a fleet shadow. After an absence of about two minutes, he came back with the desired intelligence.
“No, Monsieur le Baron, the gentleman is not a guest,” he announced. “But he is visiting a guest. The name is Yard. He arrived about a quarter of an hour ago and sent his card in to Captain Maltravers, who at once took him up to his room.”
“Captain Maltravers? So! That will be the military officer from India, will it not?”
“Yes, Monsieur; the one with the fair hair and moustache who lunched to-day at the table adjoining Monsieur le Baron’s own.”
“Ah, to be sure. And ‘passed the time of day’ with me, as they say in this peculiar language. I remember the gentleman perfectly. Thank you very much. There’s something to pay you for your trouble.”
“Monsieur le Baron is too generous! Is there any other service——”
“No, no—nothing, thank you. I have all that I require,” interposed the “Baron” with a gesture of dismissal.