But the whole place was in total darkness. Not a light showed anywhere.
I returned, and suggested that in passing he might have been mistaken.
There were lights in the windows of the adjoining house.
"No," declared the young man, who, by his speech, I recognised was well
educated, "I made no mistake. There's some mystery here. I wired from
Paris to Miss Greer this morning, making an appointment this evening.
It's curious that she's out."
"You are a friend of the family, I suppose?" I asked, eager to know who
the young fellow was.
"Yes," he replied; "and you?"
"I am also," was my answer. What other reply could I make? "I believe
the Professor is up in Scotland," I added.
"But where is Antonio and all the other servants?" he argued.
"Well," I said, "their master being absent, they may all be out,
spending the evening; servants have a habit of doing so in the absence
of their masters."
"Then how do you account for the movements I have heard inside?" he
asked. "No; if the servants are out, then the thieves are within. Will
you stay here to bar their exit, while I go out and find a constable?"
Mention of the police caused me to wince. This young man was in
ignorance of what had really occurred.
"I should remain patient a little while if I were you," I said.
"Antonio may return at any moment; he surely cannot have gone far."
"On the contrary, I think he has."
"Why?"
"Well, curiously enough, this afternoon, when I alighted from the Paris
express and was passing through the buffet at Calais, I caught sight of
a man who strangely resembled him. He turned his head and hurried away.
At the moment I failed to recognise the likeness, and not until half an
hour later, when the boat was already on its way across to Dover, did I
recollect that he was very like the Professor's faithful Antonio."