“Well, I take you at your word, but please listen to me to the end.”
Raife dispensed the drinks and Herrion proceeded:
“The man we chased last night was one of a gang of burglars. I had word they were making an attempt on Gildersley House, which contains a lot of valuable property, and there is jewellery and plate, too. I was right. Somehow, we did not succeed in catching them. When I seized you, I did not, of course, recognise you, and I thought you were one of the gang.”
Raife intervened. “I think that’s rather amusing, don’t you?”
“No, Sir Raife, I fear not. That Apache-looking fellow is practically in the employ of a certain Doctor Malsano.”
Raife started, and his expression became engrossed.
“The important part of what I want to say is,” proceeded the detective, “that, although it is merely a coincidence that you should have been in the middle of the night on the scene of an attempted burglary, I saw you, earlier in the evening, dining at the Savoy with a Miss Gilda Tempest, who is supposed to be the niece of this Doctor Malsano.”
Raife sprang from his seat and said: “Come, come, Herrion, I can’t hear a word against Miss Tempest.”
“I ask you to keep cool, Sir Raife, until I explain to you how serious is the situation. It is incredible to feel that your good name—Sir Raife Remington—should be associated with a gang of continental swindlers, of whom this lady is the decoy.”
Again Raife hotly intervened. “I must ask you, Herrion, not to drag Miss Tempest’s name into the dust.”