Duke went into it first, and stopped short.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he cried,
Instead of three cars the motor-house held but one—the hundred horse-power Mercrac. It was a racing car, with only two seats. On them sat two figures, Jean and Firmin.
"What are you sitting there for? You idle dogs!" bellowed the millionaire.
Neither of the men answered, nor did they stir. The light from the lamp gleamed on their fixed eyes, which stared at their infuriated master.
"What on earth is this?" said the Duke; and seizing the lamp which stood beside the car, he raised it so that its light fell on the two figures. Then it was clear what had happened: they were trussed like two fowls, and gagged.
The Duke pulled a penknife from his pocket, opened the blade, stepped into the car and set Firmin free. Firmin coughed and spat and swore. The Duke cut the bonds of Jean.
"Well," said the Duke, in a tone of cutting irony, "what new game is this? What have you been playing at?"
"It was those Charolais—those cursed Charolais!" growled Firmin.
"They came on us unawares from behind," said Jean.
