"So it was their launch we saw," observed Bobby coolly. "I thought it must be."
Campbell closed the door in the grate with a vicious swing, and came swiftly back to where we were standing.
"Let us have the facts, Mr. Dryden, just the bare facts and nothing more." He caught hold of a chair and thrust it towards me.
"Better sit down, man," he added in a gentler voice. "You're looking as if a rest would do you good."
I took his advice, accepting at the same time the somewhat battered silver flask which Bobby lugged out hastily from an inside pocket. It was full of neat brandy, and, having gulped down a generous mouthful, I proceeded to give them a compressed but faithful description of the evening's entertainment. The whole recital only occupied a short while, for in spite of its amazing nature neither of them attempted to interrupt me.
"So you see what comes of not keeping your appointments, Robert," I finished. "The diamonds have gone; here am I with a cracked collar-bone, and——"
A sudden sound attracted our attention, and we all three turned round abruptly. Christine was standing at the head of the staircase, with her hand on the banister. Dressed in an old sailing jersey of mine, with a pair of white flannel trousers rolled up over her bare feet and ankles, she presented such a delightfully unexpected picture that for perhaps a couple of seconds none of us moved or spoke.
"Let me introduce you," I said. "Christine, this is Bobby, and this is Inspector Campbell. I have just been telling them how you saved my life."
She came down the staircase, and with a simultaneous movement both my companions started forward to meet her. Bobby, however, arrived first.
"Put it there," he exclaimed, burying her slender hand in his huge brown fist. "I told Jack he'd got a prize-packet, and, by God! it's the truth."