"Oh, but he's not English at all," I said. "I learned from one of the other servants, not so long ago, that he's a Slav by birth, and acquired his perfect English name, speech and manners during a long period of buttling in London. By the way, on whose recommendation did you employ him?"
"Can't say," Henry replied, as he lighted a cigar. "Ah!" he added, after a thoughtful pause. "I have it! I employed him on Dr. LaRauche's recommendation, from whom he brought the most exceptional references. It's not likely, though, that Dr. LaRauche would have any ulterior reason in wanting me to give his former servant a place."
"After all," I suggested, "there's no getting away from the fact that Rene LaRauche hates you worse than poison."
"You're wrong, Livingston," said Henry, with emphasis. "Dr. LaRauche is only suspicious of my scientific achievements. He regards me as a rank amateur. A top-notch scientist himself, of international reputation, it is only natural that he should be jealous of any intrusion upon that which he feels is his own field. But hatred? Oh, no!"
"If we're going in for mere theorizing," I said, "here's one to cogitate over. Supposing Orkins, the sly, crafty devil, was a plant in this house; put here by LaRauche to spy on your scientific research work? Then what?"
"Well, give me the truth," Henry answered. "Truth's not so easy to come at in these matters, and I doubt if we shall get any substantial contribution to your theory. Certainly not by remaining quietly here, with our hands folded. Come to think of it, LaRauche borrowed a valuable book of mine more than two years ago, Lowell's 'Mars as the Abode of Life,' which I should like very much to have him return. Now, supposing you drop in on him. Haven't the least idea what you'll get besides the borrowed book, and I doubt if you get that. Anyhow," he added significantly, "you may find out something—one way or another."
The curiosity instinct, which was my second nature, rose, strong and eager, when I heard this announcement. "All right," I said, with a suddenly roused alertness; "I'll call on LaRauche this afternoon."
IX
It was late in the afternoon when I reached the LaRauche house, a big, old-fashioned place, which stood within large enclosed grounds of its own, in a heavily wooded section, on a lonely and unfrequented road, about three miles south of Sands Cliff village.