under your roof, it is the right place for me,” he said more affably. “I accept your invitation in the spirit in which it is given. I have a matter of three million sterling in securities to get from the bullion-room, and then I’m your man. Kindly wait here.”
A grim smile played round the Senator’s firm lips when, after going through the needful formalities with the purser, he quitted the steamer’s stronghold, carrying the leather despatch-box. He would lead the rascal on, making his mouth water, gently titillate his expectations, and then, having got him fairly on the hooks, hand him over to the police. Delighted with the prospect of thwarting a rogue, he sought his state-room to collect his personal baggage and have it conveyed ashore. The first thing that met his eye on entering the state-room was a letter in his wife’s handwriting that had just been delivered.
It bore date of the previous day, and informed him that the writer and Leonie were staying as the guests of the Duke of Beaumanoir at his country seat, Prior’s Tarrant. Mrs. Sherman went on to explain the circumstances, so far as she was aware of them, of the invitation, and she wound up with the hope that the
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