The door opened and Tredwell announced:
“Mr. George Lomax. Mr. Eversleigh.”
“Enter Codders, followed by faithful dog,” murmured Bundle.
Bill made a beeline for her, whilst George greeted Lord Caterham in the genial manner he assumed for public occasions.
“My dear Caterham,” said George, shaking him by the hand, “I got your message, and came over, of course.”
“Very good of you, my dear fellow, very good of you. Delighted to see you.” Lord Caterham’s conscience always drove him on to an excess of geniality when he was conscious of feeling none. “Not that it was my message, but that doesn’t matter at all.”
In the meantime, Bill was attacking Bundle in an undertone.
“I say. What’s it all about? What’s this I hear about Virginia bolting off in the middle of the night? She’s not been kidnapped, has she?”
“Oh, no,” said Bundle. “She left a note pinned to the pincushion in the orthodox fashion.”
“She’s not gone off with anyone, has she? Not with that Colonial Johnny? I never liked the fellow and, from all I hear, there seems to be an idea floating around that he himself is the super crook. But I don’t quite see how that can be?”
“Why not?”
“Well, this King Victor was a French fellow, and Cade’s English enough.”
“You don’t happen to have heard that King Victor was an accomplished linguist, and, moreover, was half Irish?”
“Oh, Lord! Then that’s why he’s made himself scarce, is it?”
“I don’t know about his making himself scarce. He disappeared the day before yesterday, as you know. But this morning we got a wire from him, saying he would be down here at 9 p.m. tonight, and suggesting that Codders should be asked over. All these other people have turned up as well—asked by Mr. Cade.”
“It is a gathering,” said Bill, looking round. “One French detective by window, one English ditto by fireplace. Strong foreign element. The Stars and Stripes don’t seem to be represented?”
Bundle shook her head.
“Mr. Fish has disappeared into the blue. Virginia’s not here either. But everyone else is assembled, and I have a feeling in my bones, Bill, that we are drawing very near to the moment when somebody says ‘James, the footman,’ and everything is revealed. We’re only waiting now for Anthony Cade to arrive.”
“He’ll never show up,” said Bill.
“Then why call this company meeting, as Father calls it?”
“Ah, there’s some deep idea behind that. Depend upon it. Wants us all here while he’s somewhere else—you know the sort of thing.”
“You don’t think he’ll come, then?”
“No fear. Run his head into the lion’s mouth? Why, the room’s bristling with detectives and high officials.”
“You don’t know much about King Victor, if you think that would deter him. By all accounts, it’s the kind of situation he loves above all, and he always manages to come out on top.”
Mr. Eversleigh shook his head doubtfully.
“That would take some doing—with the dice loaded against him. He’ll never—”
The door opened again and Tredwell announced:
“Mr. Cade.”
Anthony came straight across to his host.
“Lord Caterham,” he said, “I’m giving you a frightful lot of trouble, and I’m awfully sorry about it. But I really do think that tonight will see the clearing up of the mystery.”
Lord Caterham looked mollified. He had always had a secret liking for Anthony.
“No trouble at all,” he said heartily.
“It’s very kind of you,” said Anthony. “We’re all here, I see. Then I can get on with the good work.”
“I don’t understand,” said George Lomax weightily. “I don’t understand in the least. This is all very irregular. Mr. Cade has no standing—no standing whatever. The position is a very difficult and delicate one. I am strongly of the opinion—”
George’s flood of eloquence was arrested. Moving unobtrusively to the great man’s side, Superintendent Battle whispered a few words in his ear. George looked perplexed and baffled.
“Very well, if you say so,” he remarked grudgingly. Then added in a louder tone, “I’m sure we are all willing to listen to what Mr. Cade has to say.”
Anthony ignored the palpable condescension of the other’s tone.
“It’s just a little idea of mine, that’s all,” he said cheerfully. “Probably all of you know that we got hold of a certain message in cipher the other day. There was a reference to Richmond, and some numbers.” He paused. “Well, we had a shot at solving it—and we failed. Now in the late Count Stylptitch’s memoirs (which I happen to have read) there is a reference to a certain dinner—a ‘Flower’ dinner which everyone attended wearing a badge representing a flower. The Count himself wore the exact duplicate of that curious device we found in the cavity in the secret passage. It represented a rose. If you remember, it was all rows of things—buttons, letter E’s, and finally rows of knitting. Now, gentlemen, what is there in this house that is arranged in rows? Books, isn’t that so? Add to that, that in the catalogue of Lord Caterham’s library there is a book called The Life of the Earl of Richmond, and I think you will get a very fair idea of the hiding-place. Starting at the volume in question, and using the numbers to denote shelves and books, I think you will find that the—er—object of our search is concealed in a dummy book, or in a cavity behind a particular book.”
Anthony looked round modestly, obviously waiting for applause.
“Upon my word, that’s very ingenious,” said Lord Caterham.
“Quite ingenious,” admitted George condescendingly. “But it remains to be seen—”
Anthony laughed.
“The proof of the pudding’s in the eating—eh? Well, I’ll soon settle that for you.” He sprang to his feet. “I’ll go
