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Updated: May 17, 2025
My own connections with the police service of my country you have already, without doubt, surmised." "Go on," Duncombe said. "I regret to say," Monsieur Louis continued, "that my friends here are in charge of a warrant for your arrest. You will find them possessed of all the legal documents, French and English. We shall have to ask you to come to Norwich with us to-night." "Arrest!"
The day came at last when the housekeeper was gratified to find that all her dusting and polishing had not been thrown away. Captain Duncombe returned exactly as she had prophesied he would return, without sending either note or message to give warning of his arrival.
It was only when the transformation was complete, and Captain Duncombe had spent upwards of a thousand pounds on his folly, that he became acquainted with the common report about the place. Sailors are proverbially superstitious.
"Why, I thought that you had shaken the dust of the city from your feet forever, and turned country squire. Sit down! What will you have?" "First of all, am I disturbing you?" Spencer shook his head. "I've no Press work to-night," he answered. "I've a clear hour to give you at any rate. When did you come?" "Two-twenty from Charing Cross," Duncombe answered.
"I may be permitted to remind you, however, that I have offered a great price." "Perhaps!" Duncombe answered quietly. Monsieur Louis turned to his assistants. "Sir George Duncombe will accompany us," he said. "I can give you ten minutes, Sir George," he added, "in case you care to change your clothes." "And supposing I refuse to come?" Duncombe asked. Monsieur Louis smiled.
He bought it, and pulled it almost all to pieces, rebuilt it, and I doubt if there is any of the old house standing. He has made quite a smart little place of it. He's a queer old chap, this Cap'en Duncombe, I'm told, and rather a tough customer." "I'll see the inside of his house, however tough he may be," answered Milsom, in a dogged tone. "If he's a tough customer, he'll find me a tougher.
To think of her there alone almost maddens me." Duncombe rose suddenly from his seat. "Come out into the garden, Andrew," he said. "I feel stifled here." His host rose and took Duncombe's arm. They passed out through the French window on to the gravel path which circled the cedar-shaded lawn. A shower had fallen barely an hour since, and the air was full of fresh delicate fragrance.
"It is not a matter of wanting you to come," the Baron answered coldly. "It is a matter of necessity." Duncombe moved towards the fireplace. "Will you allow me the privilege of a few moments' conversation with you in private?" he said to the Baron. "Your companions will perhaps excuse you for a moment." The Baron followed without remark. They stood facing one another upon the hearthrug.
"I hope that you are prepared to be very amusing. Do tell me which is your friend." Then Duncombe remembered Andrew, who was standing by his side. He turned towards him, and the words suddenly died away upon his lips. Andrew's tall frame was shaking as though with some powerful emotion. He was standing with his head thrust forward as though listening intently. Duncombe set his teeth.
Help yourself to another whisky and soda, and come and sit down." There was a knock at the door, and the butler appeared. "There are three gentlemen outside, sir, who wish to see you," he announced to Duncombe. "They will not give their names, but they say that their business is important, or they would not have troubled you so late." Duncombe glanced at the clock. It was past midnight.
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