“Ma foi! Mr Herrion, but if that is so, I and my proprietors are profoundly grateful to you.”
“Well it is, in some sense, my duty to prevent crime as well as to hunt down criminals and bring them to justice. I am not in Nice for this particular piece of work, but I saw a chance of nipping this man’s plans, and I hope I have done it. The rest of the work I leave to you. Good day, signor!”
When Herrion had left, the rotund little man leant back in his chair and laughed to himself.
“Ma foi! But when I was in London the crooks of Soho, Hatton Garden, and the other quarters used to laugh at the English detectives, with their big boots, pipe, and what they call a skull cap. But, this man Herrion, he’s what they call ‘in another class.’”
Chapter Ten.
The Mystery of some Disappearances.
The doctor, after his encounter with Herrion, hastily ascended the main staircase and made his way to his room. Gilda was in the foyer talking to Sir Raife Remington. With a surprising agility, the doctor flung his belongings into his valises and then scribbled a note. Ringing the bell he called for his bill, at the same time instructing the waiter to hand the note to Miss Tempest, whom he would find in the foyer. “Call Miss Tempest,” he added, “by saying that I wish to speak to her. Don’t hand her the note in the presence of Sir Raife.”
The waiter, with a profound bow, withdrew to obey the instructions, slightly elevating his eyebrows.