“You wrote a note to Miss Trevert at her hotel warning her that she was in danger. I want to know why you warned her. What led you to suppose that she was threatened?”
Herr Schulz made a little gesture of the hand.
“Wass I not right to warn her?”
“Indeed, you were,” Robin asserted with conviction. “She was spirited away and drugged.”
The German started. A frowning pucker appeared just above the bridge of his big spectacles and he raised his head quickly.
“Drugged?” he said.
“Certainly,” said Robin. “This gentleman with me is a doctor ... Dr. Robert Collingwood, of the Red Lion Line. He has examined Miss Trevert and can corroborate my statement.”
“By Gad!” exclaimed Herr Schulz—and this time his English was faultless and fluent—“Shut that door behind you, Mr. Greve, and shoot the bolt—that’s it just below the knob! Sit down, sit down, and while I mix you a drink, you shall tell me about this!”
CHAPTER XXV.
THE READING OF THE RIDDLE
In uttering those words Herr Schulz seemed suddenly to become loose-limbed and easy. His plethoric rigidity of manner vanished, and, though he spoke with a brisk air of authority, there was a jovial ring in his voice which instantly inspired confidence. With the change the illusion supported by his appalling clothes was broken and he looked like a man dressed up for charades.