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"Duson," he said, "take this to the head luggage porter. Tell him to bring his departure book up here at once, and there is another waiting for him. You understand?" "Certainly, sir!" Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber. His attention was attracted, however, by a letter lying flat upon the table. He took it up. It was addressed to Mr. Sabin.
At the moment of turning away he addressed an inquiry to the clerk behind the counter. "Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?" he inquired. The young man glanced up. "Been here, I guess. Left on Tuesday." Mr. Sabin turned away. He did not speak again until Duson and he were alone in the sitting-room. Then he drew out a five dollar bill.
"The Countess," Passmore continued, "shortly afterwards visited these rooms. An hour after her departure Duson was dead. He died from drinking out of your liqueur glass, into which a few specks of that powder, invisible almost to the naked eye, had been dropped. At Dorset House Reginald Brott was waiting for her. He left shortly afterwards in a state of agitation." "And from these things," Mr.
The Prince shrugged his shoulders. "I deeply regret to tell you," he said, "that the law has proved too powerful for me. I can no longer stand between her and what I fear may prove a most unpleasant episode. Lucille will be arrested within the hour." "Upon what charge?" Mr. Sabin asked. "The murder of Duson." Mr. Sabin laughed very softly, very gently, but with obvious genuineness.
The Prince shrugged his shoulders. "My health," he said, "was never better. It is true that your coming was somewhat of a surprise," he added, looking steadily at Mr. Sabin. "I understood that you had gone for a short journey, and I was not expecting to see you back again so soon." "Duson," Mr. Sabin said, "has taken that short journey instead.
Let Duson bring us wine. You look like a death's head." Felix roused himself. "You will go your own way," he said. "Now that you have chosen I will tell you this. I am glad. Yes, let Duson bring wine. I will drink to your health and to your success. There have been times when men have performed miracles. I shall drink to that miracle." Duson brought also a letter, which Mr.
Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations. "You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served. The restaurant car will be detached at the next stop." "What of it?" Mr. Sabin asked calmly. "I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir. It is thirty hours since you ate anything save biscuits." Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
"Your Grace will pardon me," Duson said, "but there is outside a gentleman waiting to see you to whom you might address the same questions with better results, for compared with him I know nothing. It is Monsieur Felix." "Why have you kept him waiting?" Mr. Sabin asked. "Your Grace was much absorbed," Duson answered. Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr.
"Yes, sir." "You have been with her, I believe, for many years. You are doubtless much attached to her!" "Indeed I am, sir!" "You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me. I desire to ensure your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to this extent. Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some power over her. Her absence is involuntary so far as she is concerned.
Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his stick. Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness in his eyes and bearing. He was once more taking keen note of everybody and everything about him. Only a few days ago she had been here. He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson, who by this time had rejoined him.
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