An African Millionaire: Episodes in the Life of the Illustrious Colonel Clay Page 7

  VII

  THE EPISODE OF THE ARREST OF THE COLONEL

  How much precisely Charles dropped over the slump in CloetedorpsI never quite knew. But the incident left him dejected, limp, anddispirited.

  "Hang it all, Sey," he said to me in the smoking-room, a fewevenings later. "This Colonel Clay is enough to vex the patience ofJob--and Job had large losses, too, if I recollect aright, from theChaldeans and other big operators of the period."

  "Three thousand camels," I murmured, recalling my dear mother'slessons; "all at one fell swoop; not to mention five hundred yoke ofoxen, carried off by the Sabeans, then a leading firm of speculativecattle-dealers!"

  "Ah, well," Charles meditated aloud, shaking the ash from hischeroot into a Japanese tray--fine antique bronze-work. "There werebig transactions in live-stock even then! Still, Job or no Job, theman is too much for me."

  "The difficulty is," I assented, "you never know where to have him."

  "Yes," Charles mused; "if he were always the same, like Horniman'stea or a good brand of whisky, it would be easier, of course; you'dstand some chance of spotting him. But when a man turns up smilingevery time in a different disguise, which fits him like a skin, andalways apparently with the best credentials, why, hang it all, Sey,there's no wrestling with him anyhow."

  "Who could have come to us, for example, better vouched," Iacquiesced, "than the Honourable David?"

  "Exactly so," Charles murmured. "I invited him myself, for my ownadvantage. And he arrived with all the prestige of the Glen-Ellachieconnection."

  "Or the Professor?" I went on. "Introduced to us by the leadingmineralogist of England."

  I had touched a sore point. Charles winced and remained silent.

  "Then, women again," he resumed, after a painful pause. "I must meetin society many charming women. I can't everywhere and always be onmy guard against every dear soul of them. Yet the moment I relaxmy attention for one day--or even when I don't relax it--I ambamboozled and led a dance by that arch Mme. Picardet, or thattransparently simple little minx, Mrs. Granton. She's the cleverestgirl I ever met in my life, that hussy, whatever we're to call her.She's a different person each time; and each time, hang it all, Ilose my heart afresh to that different person."

  I glanced round to make sure Amelia was well out of earshot.

  "No, Sey," my respected connection went on, after another longpause, sipping his coffee pensively, "I feel I must be aided in thissuperhuman task by a professional unraveller of cunning disguises. Ishall go to Marvillier's to-morrow--fortunate man, Marvillier--andask him to supply me with a really good 'tec, who will stop in thehouse and keep an eye upon every living soul that comes near me.He shall scan each nose, each eye, each wig, each whisker. He shallbe my watchful half, my unsleeping self; it shall be his businessto suspect all living men, all breathing women. The Archbishop ofCanterbury shall not escape for a moment his watchful regard; hewill take care that royal princesses don't collar the spoons or walkoff with the jewel-cases. He must see possible Colonel Clays in theguard of every train and the parson of every parish; he must detectthe off-chance of a Mme. Picardet in every young girl that takes teawith Amelia, every fat old lady that comes to call upon Isabel. Yes,I have made my mind up. I shall go to-morrow and secure such a manat once at Marvillier's."

  "If you please, Sir Charles," Cesarine interposed, pushing her headthrough the portiere, "her ladyship says, will you and Mr. Wentworthremember that she goes out with you both this evening to LadyCarisbrooke's?"

  "Bless my soul," Charles cried, "so she does! And it's now past ten!The carriage will be at the door for us in another five minutes!"

  Next morning, accordingly, Charles drove round to Marvillier's. Thefamous detective listened to his story with glistening eyes; then herubbed his hands and purred. "Colonel Clay!" he said; "Colonel Clay!That's a very tough customer! The police of Europe are on thelook-out for Colonel Clay. He is wanted in London, in Paris, inBerlin. It is le Colonel Caoutchouc here, le Colonel Caoutchoucthere; till one begins to ask, at last, IS there _any_ ColonelCaoutchouc, or is it a convenient class name invented by the Forceto cover a gang of undiscovered sharpers? However, Sir Charles, wewill do our best. I will set on the track without delay the best andcleverest detective in England."

  "The very man I want," Charles said. "What name, Marvillier?"

  The principal smiled. "Whatever name you like," he said. "He isn'tparticular. Medhurst he's called at home. _We_ call him Joe. I'llsend him round to your house this afternoon for certain."

  "Oh no," Charles said promptly, "you won't; or Colonel Clay himselfwill come instead of him. I've been sold too often. No casualstrangers! I'll wait here and see him."

  "But he isn't in," Marvillier objected.

  Charles was firm as a rock. "Then send and fetch him."

  In half an hour, sure enough, the detective arrived. He was anodd-looking small man, with hair cut short and standing straight upall over his head, like a Parisian waiter. He had quick, sharp eyes,very much like a ferret's; his nose was depressed, his lips thin andbloodless. A scar marked his left cheek--made by a sword-cut, hesaid, when engaged one day in arresting a desperate French smuggler,disguised as an officer of Chasseurs d'Afrique. His mien wasresolute. Altogether, a quainter or 'cuter little man it has neveryet been my lot to set eyes on. He walked in with a brisk step,eyed Charles up and down, and then, without much formality, askedfor what he was wanted.

  "This is Sir Charles Vandrift, the great diamond king," Marvilliersaid, introducing us.

  "So I see," the man answered.

  "Then you know me?" Charles asked.

  "I wouldn't be worth much," the detective replied, "if I didn'tknow everybody. And you're easy enough to know; why, every boy inthe street knows you."

  "Plain spoken!" Charles remarked.

  "As you like it, sir," the man answered in a respectful tone. "Iendeavour to suit my dress and behaviour on every occasion to thetaste of my employers."

  "Your name?" Charles asked, smiling.

  "Joseph Medhurst, at your service. What sort of work? Stolendiamonds? Illicit diamond-buying?"

  "No," Charles answered, fixing him with his eye. "Quite another kindof job. You've heard of Colonel Clay?"

  Medhurst nodded. "Why, certainly," he said; and, for the first time,I detected a lingering trace of American accent. "It's my businessto know about him."

  "Well, I want you to catch him," Charles went on.

  Medhurst drew a long breath. "Isn't that rather a large order?"he murmured, surprised.

  Charles explained to him exactly the sort of services he required.Medhurst promised to comply. "If the man comes near you, I'll spothim," he said, after a moment's pause. "I can promise you that much.I'll pierce any disguise. I should know in a minute whether he'sgot up or not. I'm death on wigs, false moustaches, artificialcomplexions. I'll engage to bring the rogue to book if I see him.You may set your mind at rest, that, while _I'm_ about you, ColonelClay can do nothing without my instantly spotting him."

  "He'll do it," Marvillier put in. "He'll do it, if he says it. He'smy very best hand. Never knew any man like him for unravelling andunmasking the cleverest disguises."

  "Then he'll suit me," Charles answered, "for _I_ never knew any manlike Colonel Clay for assuming and maintaining them."

  It was arranged accordingly that Medhurst should take up hisresidence in the house for the present, and should be described tothe servants as assistant secretary. He came that very day, with amarvellously small portmanteau. But from the moment he arrived,we noticed that Cesarine took a violent dislike to him.

  Medhurst was a most efficient detective. Charles and I told himall we knew about the various shapes in which Colonel Clay had"materialised," and he gave us in turn many valuable criticisms andsuggestions. Why, when we began to suspect the Honourable DavidGranton, had we not, as if by accident, tried to knock his red wigoff? Why, when the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon first discussedthe question of the paste diamonds, had we not looked t
o see ifany of Amelia's unique gems were missing? Why, when ProfessorSchleiermacher made his bow to assembled science at Lancaster Gate,had we not strictly inquired how far he was personally knownbeforehand to Sir Adolphus Cordery and the other mineralogists?He supplied us also with several good hints about false hair andmake-up; such as that Schleiermacher was probably much shorter thanhe looked, but by imitating a stoop with padding at his back hehad produced the illusion of a tall bent man, though in reality nobigger than the little curate or the Graf von Lebenstein. High heelsdid the rest; while the scientific keenness we noted in his face wasdoubtless brought about by a trifle of wax at the end of the nose,giving a peculiar tilt that is extremely effective. In short, I mustfrankly admit, Medhurst made us feel ashamed of ourselves. Sharp asCharles is, we realised at once he was nowhere in observation besidethe trained and experienced senses of this professional detective.

  The worst of it all was, while Medhurst was with us, by some curiousfatality, Colonel Clay stopped away from us. Now and again, to besure, we ran up against somebody whom Medhurst suspected; butafter a short investigation (conducted, I may say, with admirablecleverness), the spy always showed us the doubtful person wasreally some innocent and well-known character, whose antecedentsand surroundings he elucidated most wonderfully. He was a perfectmarvel, too, in his faculty of suspicion. He suspected everybody. Ifan old friend dropped in to talk business with Charles, we found outafterwards that Medhurst had lain concealed all the time behind thecurtain, and had taken short-hand notes of the whole conversation,as well as snap-shot photographs of the supposed sharper, by meansof a kodak. If a fat old lady came to call upon Amelia, Medhurstwas sure to be lurking under the ottoman in the drawing-room, andcarefully observing, with all his eyes, whether or not she wasreally Mme. Picardet, padded. When Lady Tresco brought her fourplain daughters to an "At Home" one night, Medhurst, in eveningdress, disguised as a waiter, followed them each round the room withobtrusive ices, to satisfy himself just how much of their complexionwas real, and how much was patent rouge and Bloom of Ninon. Hedoubted whether Simpson, Sir Charles's valet, was not Colonel Clayin plain clothes; and he had half an idea that Cesarine herself wasour saucy White Heather in an alternative avatar. We pointed outto him in vain that Simpson had often been present in the verysame room with David Granton, and that Cesarine had dressed Mrs.Brabazon's hair at Lucerne: this partially satisfied him, but onlypartially. He remarked that Simpson might double both parts withsomebody else unknown; and that as for Cesarine, she might wellhave a twin sister who took her place when she was Mme. Picardet.

  Still, in spite of all his care--or because of all his care--ColonelClay stopped away for whole weeks together. An explanation occurredto us. Was it possible he knew we were guarded and watched? Was heafraid of measuring swords with this trained detective?

  If so, how had he found it out? I had an inkling, myself--but, underall the circumstances, I did not mention it to Charles. It was clearthat Cesarine intensely disliked this new addition to the Vandrifthousehold. She would not stop in the room where the detective was,or show him common politeness. She spoke of him always as "thatodious man, Medhurst." Could she have guessed, what none of theother servants knew, that the man was a spy in search of theColonel? I was inclined to believe it. And then it dawned upon methat Cesarine had known all about the diamonds and their story; thatit was Cesarine who took us to see Schloss Lebenstein; that it wasCesarine who posted the letter to Lord Craig-Ellachie! If Cesarinewas in league with Colonel Clay, as I was half inclined to surmise,what more natural than her obvious dislike to the detective who wasthere to catch her principal? What more simple for her than to warnher fellow-conspirator of the danger that awaited him if heapproached this man Medhurst?

  However, I was too much frightened by the episode of the cheque tosay anything of my nascent suspicions to Charles. I waited ratherto see how events would shape themselves.

  After a while Medhurst's vigilance grew positively annoying. Morethan once he came to Charles with reports and shorthand notesdistinctly distasteful to my excellent brother-in-law. "The fellowis getting to know too much about us," Charles said to me one day."Why, Sey, he spies out everything. Would you believe it, when I hadthat confidential interview with Brookfield the other day, about thenew issue of Golcondas, the man was under the easy-chair, though Isearched the room beforehand to make sure he wasn't there; and hecame to me afterwards with full notes of the conversation, to assureme he thought Brookfield--whom I've known for ten years--was tootall by half an inch to be one of Colonel Clay's impersonations."

  "Oh, but, Sir Charles," Medhurst cried, emerging suddenly from thebookcase, "you must never look upon _any one_ as above suspicionmerely because you've known him for ten years or thereabouts.Colonel Clay may have approached you at various times under manydisguises. He may have built up this thing gradually. Besides, as tomy knowing too much, why, of course, a detective always learns manythings about his employer's family which he is not supposed to know;but professional honour and professional etiquette, as with doctorsand lawyers, compel him to lock them up as absolute secrets in hisown bosom. You need never be afraid I will divulge one jot of them.If I did, my occupation would be gone, and my reputation shattered."

  Charles looked at him, appalled. "Do you dare to say," he burst out,"you've been listening to my talk with my brother-in-law andsecretary?"

  "Why, of course," Medhurst answered. "It's my business to listen,and to suspect everybody. If you push me to say so, how do I knowColonel Clay is not--Mr. Wentworth?"

  Charles withered him with a look. "In future, Medhurst," he said,"you must never conceal yourself in a room where I am without myleave and knowledge."

  Medhurst bowed politely. "Oh, as you will, Sir Charles," heanswered; "that's _quite_ at your own wish. Though how can I actas an efficient detective, any way, if you insist upon tying myhands like that, beforehand?"

  Again I detected a faint American flavour.

  After that rebuff, however, Medhurst seemed put upon his mettle. Heredoubled his vigilance in every direction. "It's not my fault," hesaid plaintively, one day, "if my reputation's so good that, whileI'm near you, this rogue won't approach you. If I can't _catch_ him,at least I keep him away from coming near you!"

  A few days later, however, he brought Charles some photographs.These he produced with evident pride. The first he showed us was avignette of a little parson. "Who's that, then?" he inquired, muchpleased.

  We gazed at it, open-eyed. One word rose to our lips simultaneously:"Brabazon!"

  "And how's this for high?" he asked again, producing another--thephotograph of a gay young dog in a Tyrolese costume.

  We murmured, "Von Lebenstein!"

  "_And_ this?" he continued, showing us the portrait of a lady with amost fetching squint.

  We answered with one voice, "Little Mrs. Granton!"

  Medhurst was naturally proud of this excellent exploit. He replacedthem in his pocket-book with an air of just triumph.

  "How did you get them?" Charles asked.

  Medhurst's look was mysterious. "Sir Charles," he answered, drawinghimself up, "I must ask you to trust me awhile in this matter.Remember, there are people whom you decline to suspect. _I_ havelearned that it is always those very people who are most dangerousto capitalists. If I were to give you the names now, you wouldrefuse to believe me. Therefore, I hold them over discreetly forthe moment. One thing, however, I say. I _know_ to a certainty whereColonel Clay is at this present speaking. But I will lay my plansdeep, and I hope before long to secure him. You shall be presentwhen I do so; and I shall make him confess his personality openly.More than that you cannot reasonably ask. I shall leave it to_you_, then, whether or not you wish to arrest him."

  Charles was considerably puzzled, not to say piqued, by this curiousreticence; he begged hard for names; but Medhurst was adamant. "No,no," he replied; "we detectives have our own just pride in ourprofession. If I told you now, you would probably spoil all by somepremature action. You are too
open and impulsive! I will mentionthis alone: Colonel Clay will be shortly in Paris, and before longwill begin from that city a fresh attempt at defrauding you, whichhe is now hatching. Mark my words, and see whether or not I havebeen kept well informed of the fellow's movements!"

  He was perfectly correct. Two days later, as it turned out, Charlesreceived a "confidential" letter from Paris, purporting to comefrom the head of a second-rate financial house with which he hadhad dealings over the Craig-Ellachie Amalgamation--by this time,I ought to have said, an accomplished union. It was a letter ofsmall importance in itself--a mere matter of detail; but it pavedthe way, so Medhurst thought, to some later development of moreserious character. Here once more the man's singular foresight wasjustified. For, in another week, we received a second communication,containing other proposals of a delicate financial character, whichwould have involved the transference of some two thousand poundsto the head of the Parisian firm at an address given. Both theseletters Medhurst cleverly compared with those written to Charlesbefore, in the names of Colonel Clay and of Graf von Lebenstein.At first sight, it is true, the differences between the two seemedquite enormous: the Paris hand was broad and black, large and bold;while the earlier manuscript was small, neat, thin, and gentlemanly.Still, when Medhurst pointed out to us certain persistent twists inthe formation of his capitals, and certain curious peculiarities inthe relative length of his t's, his l's, his b's, and his h's, wecould see for ourselves he was right; both were the work of one hand,writing in the one case with a sharp-pointed nib, very small, and inthe other with a quill, very large and freely.

  This discovery was _most_ important. We stood now within measurabledistance of catching Colonel Clay, and bringing forgery and fraudhome to him without hope of evasion.

  To make all sure, however, Medhurst communicated with the Parispolice, and showed us their answers. Meanwhile, Charles continued towrite to the head of the firm, who had given a private address inthe Rue Jean Jacques, alleging, I must say, a most clever reason whythe negotiations at this stage should be confidentially conducted.But one never expected from Colonel Clay anything less thanconsummate cleverness. In the end, it was arranged that we threewere to go over to Paris together, that Medhurst was to undertake,under the guise of being Sir Charles, to pay the two thousand poundsto the pretended financier, and that Charles and I, waiting with thepolice outside the door, should, at a given signal, rush in with ourforces and secure the criminal.

  We went over accordingly, and spent the night at the Grand, as isCharles's custom. The Bristol, which I prefer, he finds too quiet.Early next morning we took a fiacre and drove to the Rue JeanJacques. Medhurst had arranged everything in advance with the Parispolice, three of whom, in plain clothes, were waiting at the footof the staircase to assist us. Charles had further provided himselfwith two thousand pounds, in notes of the Bank of France, in orderthat the payment might be duly made, and no doubt arise as to thecrime having been perpetrated as well as meditated--in the formercase, the penalty would be fifteen years; in the latter, three only.He was in very high spirits. The fact that we had tracked the rascalto earth at last, and were within an hour of apprehending him, wasin itself enough to raise his courage greatly. We found, as weexpected, that the number given in the Rue Jean Jacques was thatof an hotel, not a private residence. Medhurst went in first, andinquired of the landlord whether our man was at home, at the sametime informing him of the nature of our errand, and giving him tounderstand that if we effected the capture by his friendly aid, SirCharles would see that the expenses incurred on the swindler's billwere met in full, as the price of his assistance. The landlordbowed; he expressed his deep regret, as M. le Colonel--so weheard him call him--was a most amiable person, much liked by thehousehold; but justice, of course, must have its way; and, with aregretful sigh, he undertook to assist us.

  The police remained below, but Charles and Medhurst were eachprovided with a pair of handcuffs. Remembering the Polperro case,however, we determined to use them with the greatest caution. Wewould only put them on in case of violent resistance. We crept up tothe door where the miscreant was housed. Charles handed the notes inan open envelope to Medhurst, who seized them hastily and held themin his hands in readiness for action. We had a sign concerted.Whenever he sneezed--which he could do in the most naturalmanner--we were to open the door, rush in, and secure the criminal!

  He was gone for some minutes. Charles and I waited outside inbreathless expectation. Then Medhurst sneezed. We flung the dooropen at once, and burst in upon the creature.

  Medhurst rose as we did so. He pointed with his finger. "_This_ isColonel Clay!" he said; "keep him well in charge while I go downto the door for the police to arrest him!"

  A gentlemanly man, about middle height, with a grizzled beard and awell-assumed military aspect, rose at the same moment. The envelopein which Charles had placed the notes lay on the table before him.He clutched it nervously. "I am at a loss, gentlemen," he said, inan excited voice, "to account for this interruption." He spoke witha tremor, yet with all the politeness to which we were accustomed inthe little curate and the Honourable David.

  "No nonsense!" Charles exclaimed, in his authoritative way. "We knowwho you are. We have found you out this time. You are Colonel Clay.If you attempt to resist--take care--I will handcuff you!"

  The military gentleman gave a start. "Yes, I _am_ Colonel Clay," heanswered. "On what charge do you arrest me?"

  Charles was bursting with wrath. The fellow's coolness seemed neverto desert him. "You _are_ Colonel Clay!" he muttered. "You have theunspeakable effrontery to stand there and admit it?"

  "Certainly," the Colonel answered, growing hot in turn. "I have donenothing to be ashamed of. What do you mean by this conduct? How dareyou talk of arresting me?"

  Charles laid his hand on the man's shoulder. "Come, come, myfriend," he said. "That sort of bluff won't go down with us. Youknow very well on what charge I arrest you; and here are the policeto give effect to it."

  He called out "Entrez!" The police entered the room. Charlesexplained as well as he could in most doubtful Parisian what theywere next to do. The Colonel drew himself up in an indignantattitude. He turned and addressed them in excellent French.

  "I am an officer in the service of her Britannic Majesty," he said."On what ground do you venture to interfere with me, messieurs?"

  The chief policeman explained. The Colonel turned to Charles."_Your_ name, sir?" he inquired.

  "You know it very well," Charles answered. "I am Sir CharlesVandrift; and, in spite of your clever disguise, I can instantlyrecognise you. I know your eyes and ears. I can see the same manwho cheated me at Nice, and who insulted me on the island."

  "_You_ Sir Charles Vandrift!" the rogue cried. "No, no, sir, you area madman!" He looked round at the police. "Take care what you do!"he cried. "This is a raving maniac. I had business just now with SirCharles Vandrift, who quitted the room as these gentlemen entered.This person is mad, and you, monsieur, I doubt not," bowing to me,"you are, of course, his keeper."

  "Do not let him deceive you," I cried to the police, beginning tofear that with his usual incredible cleverness the fellow wouldeven now manage to slip through our fingers. "Arrest him, as youare told. _We_ will take the responsibility." Though I trembled whenI thought of that cheque he held of mine.

  The chief of our three policemen came forward and laid his hand onthe culprit's shoulder. "I advise you, M. le Colonel," he said, inan official voice, "to come with us quietly for the present. Beforethe juge d'instruction we can enter at length into all thesequestions."

  The Colonel, very indignant still--and acting the partmarvellously--yielded and went along with them.

  "Where's Medhurst?" Charles inquired, glancing round as we reachedthe door. "I wish he had stopped with us."

  "You are looking for monsieur your friend?" the landlord inquired,with a side bow to the Colonel. "He has gone away in a fiacre. Heasked me to give this note to you."

  He handed us a twisted note. Ch
arles opened and read it. "Invaluableman!" he cried. "Just hear what he says, Sey: 'Having securedColonel Clay, I am off now again on the track of Mme. Picardet.She was lodging in the same house. She has just driven away; I knowto what place; and I am after her to arrest her. In blind haste,MEDHURST.' That's smartness, IF you like. Though, poor little woman,I think he might have left her."

  "Does a Mme. Picardet stop here?" I inquired of the landlord,thinking it possible she might have assumed again the same oldalias.

  He nodded assent. "Oui, oui, oui," he answered. "She has just drivenoff, and monsieur your friend has gone posting after her."

  "Splendid man!" Charles cried. "Marvillier was quite right. He isthe prince of detectives!"

  We hailed a couple of fiacres, and drove off, in two detachments,to the juge d'instruction. There Colonel Clay continued to brazenit out, and asserted that he was an officer in the Indian Army, homeon six months' leave, and spending some weeks in Paris. He evendeclared he was known at the Embassy, where he had a cousin anattache; and he asked that this gentleman should be sent for at oncefrom our Ambassador's to identify him. The juge d'instructioninsisted that this must be done; and Charles waited in very badhumour for the foolish formality. It really seemed as if, after all,when we had actually caught and arrested our man, he was going bysome cunning device to escape us.

  After a delay of more than an hour, during which Colonel Clayfretted and fumed quite as much as we did, the attache arrived. Toour horror and astonishment, he proceeded to salute the prisonermost affectionately.

  "Halloa, Algy!" he cried, grasping his hand; "what's up? What dothese ruffians want with you?"

  It began to dawn upon us, then, what Medhurst had meant by"suspecting everybody": the real Colonel Clay was no commonadventurer, but a gentleman of birth and high connections!

  The Colonel glared at us. "This fellow declares he's Sir CharlesVandrift," he said sulkily. "Though, in fact, there are two of them.And he accuses me of forgery, fraud, and theft, Bertie."

  The attache stared hard at us. "This _is_ Sir Charles Vandrift," hereplied, after a moment. "I remember hearing him make a speech onceat a City dinner. And what charge have you to prefer, Sir Charles,against my cousin?"

  "Your cousin?" Charles cried. "This is Colonel Clay, the notorioussharper!"

  The attache smiled a gentlemanly and superior smile. "This isColonel Clay," he answered, "of the Bengal Staff Corps."

  It began to strike us there was something wrong somewhere.

  "But he has cheated me, all the same," Charles said--"at Nice twoyears ago, and many times since; and this very day he has tricked meout of two thousand pounds in French bank-notes, which he has nowabout him!"

  The Colonel was speechless. But the attache laughed. "What he hasdone to-day I don't know," he said; "but if it's as apocryphal aswhat you say he did two years ago, you've a thundering bad case,sir; for he was then in India, and I was out there, visiting him."

  "Where are the two thousand pounds?" Charles cried. "Why, you've gotthem in your hand! You're holding the envelope!"

  The Colonel produced it. "This envelope," he said, "was left with meby the man with short stiff hair, who came just before you, and whoannounced himself as Sir Charles Vandrift. He said he was interestedin tea in Assam, and wanted me to join the board of directors ofsome bogus company. These are his papers, I believe," and he handedthem to his cousin.

  "Well, I'm glad the notes are safe, anyhow," Charles murmured, in atone of relief, beginning to smell a rat. "Will you kindly returnthem to me?"

  The attache turned out the contents of the envelope. They proved tobe prospectuses of bubble companies of the moment, of no importance.

  "Medhurst must have put them there," I cried, "and decamped with thecash."

  Charles gave a groan of horror. "And Medhurst is Colonel Clay!" heexclaimed, clapping his hand to his forehead.

  "I beg your pardon, sir," the Colonel interposed. "I have but onepersonality, and no aliases."

  It took quite half an hour to explain this imbroglio. But as soon asall was explained, in French and English, to the satisfaction ofourselves and the juge d'instruction, the real Colonel shook handswith us in a most forgiving way, and informed us that he had morethan once wondered, when he gave his name at shops in Paris, whyit was often received with such grave suspicion. We instructedthe police that the true culprit was Medhurst, whom they had seenwith their own eyes, and whom we urged them to pursue with allexpedition. Meanwhile, Charles and I, accompanied by the Coloneland the attache--"to see the fun out," as they said--called at theBank of France for the purpose of stopping the notes immediately. Itwas too late, however. They had been presented at once, and cashedin gold, by a pleasant little lady in an American costume, who wasafterwards identified by the hotel-keeper (from our description) ashis lodger, Mme. Picardet. It was clear she had taken rooms in thesame hotel, to be near the Indian Colonel; and it was _she_ who hadreceived and sent the letters. As for our foe, he had vanished intospace, as always.

  Two days later we received the usual insulting communication on asheet of Charles's own dainty note. Last time he wrote it was onCraig-Ellachie paper: this time, like the wanton lapwing, he had gothimself another crest.

  "MOST PERSPICACIOUS OF MILLIONAIRES!--Said I not well, asMedhurst, that you must distrust everybody? And the one manyou never dreamt of distrusting was--Medhurst. Yet see howtruthful I was! I told you I knew where Colonel Clay wasliving--and I _did_ know, exactly. I promised to take you toColonel Clay's rooms, and to get him arrested for you--andI kept my promise. I even exceeded your expectations; forI gave you _two_ Colonel Clays instead of one--and you tookthe wrong man--that is to say, the real one. This was a neatlittle trick; but it cost me some trouble.

  "First, I found out there _was_ a real Colonel Clay, in theIndian Army. I also found out he chanced to be coming home onleave this season. I might have made more out of him, no doubt;but I disliked annoying him, and preferred to give myself thefun of this peculiar mystification. I therefore waited for himto reach Paris, where the police arrangements suited me betterthan in London. While I was looking about, and delayingoperations for his return, I happened to hear you wanted adetective. So I offered myself as out of work to my oldemployer, Marvillier, from whom I have had many good jobs in thepast; and there you get, in short, the kernel of the Colonel.

  "Naturally, after this, I can never go back as a detectiveto Marvillier's. But, on the large scale on which I havelearned to work since I first had the pleasure of makingyour delightful acquaintance, this matters little. To saythe truth, I begin to feel detective work a cut or two belowme. I am now a gentleman of means and leisure. Besides, theextra knowledge of your movements which I have acquired inyour house has helped still further to give me various holdsupon you. So the fluke will be true to his own pet lamb. Tovary the metaphor, you are not fully shorn yet.

  "Remember me most kindly to your charming family, giveWentworth my love, and tell Mlle. Cesarine I owe her a grudgewhich I shall never forget. She clearly suspected me. You aremuch too rich, dear Charles; I relieve your plethora. I bleedyou financially. Therefore I consider myself--Your sincerestfriend,

  "CLAY-BRABAZON-MEDHURST,

  "Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons."

  Charles was threatened with apoplexy. This blow was severe."Whom can I trust," he asked, plaintively, "when the detectivesthemselves, whom I employ to guard me, turn out to be swindlers?Don't you remember that line in the Latin grammar--something about,'Who shall watch the watchers?' I think it used to run, 'Quiscustodes custodiet ipsos?'"

  But I felt this episode had at least disproved my suspicions ofpoor Cesarine.