Perhaps he did not approve of my marriage. I held a strong suspicion that he had not. Yet old servants are generally apt to be resentful at the advent of a new mistress.
I was finishing my coffee and thinking deeply, Browning having left me alone, when suddenly he returned, and, bending, said in his quiet way—
“A gentleman has called, Mr. Owen. He wishes to see you very particularly.” And he handed me a card, upon which I saw the name: “Henri Guertin.”
I sprang to my feet, my mind made up in an instant. Here was one actually of the gang, and I would entrap him in my own house!
I would compel him to speak the truth, under pain of arrest.
“Where is he?” I asked breathlessly.
“I have shown him into the study. He’s a foreign gentleman, Mr. Owen.”
“Yes, I know,” I said. “But now, don’t be alarmed, Browning—just stay outside in the hall. If I ring the bell, go straight to the telephone, ring up the police-station, and tell them to send a constable here at once. My study door will be locked until the constable arrives. You understand?”
“Perfectly, Mr. Owen, but——” And the old man hesitated, looking at me apprehensively.
“There is nothing whatever to fear,” I laughed, rather harshly perhaps. “Carry out my orders, that’s all.”