“The Duke’s gone, my lord,” he reported; “gone in a dark grey, covered
car; I couldn’t get near enough to make sure what it was, but it looks
like a Lecomte. He’s this moment got off.”
“Not alone?”
“No, my lord. I’ll tell you exactly what took place. I was at the window
in the little room I hired over a shop three days ago, in sight of the
entrance gates of the Villa Isabella. It was just seven o’clock this
morning when a smart, big grey car drove in, might be a forty horse, and
of the Lecomte type. The chauffeur wore goggles, but his figure was like
the fellow’s who came the other day to our garage. About half an hour
later, out slipped the car again, the Duke driving, a lady sitting beside
him, two other ladies in the tonneau, the chauffeur at the Duke’s feet,
and a good deal of luggage on the roof. At the gate they turned as if to
go to San Sebastian; and I came to let you know.”
“That’s right. Get ready at once for a start, and have the car here as
soon as you can.”
“Car’s ready now, my lord, and so am I.”
“Good. But don’t ‘my lord’ me. Now that I’m Mr. George Smith that’s even
more important to remember than in Trevenna days. And don’t forget that
the car’s Mr. Waring’s car.”
“I won’t forget, sir.”
He was off to the garage, and I was knocking at Dick’s door.
Dick was tying his necktie. “Ready to start in five minutes,” said he.
“How did you guess what was up?”
“Your face, d’Artagnan.”
“Why d’Artagnan? Haven’t I a large enough variety of names already?”
“I’ve selected one suitable for the situation. D’Artagnan took upon
himself a mission. So have you; and you’ll have as many difficulties to
overcome before you fulfil it, if you do, as he had.”
“Nonsense. We’re starting out to keep in touch with another party of
motorists.”
“In a country forbidden to one of us.”
“That one can look out for himself. If a lady in another motor should need
someone to stand by her, we’re to be on the spot to stand by, that’s all.”
“Yes; that’s all,” said Dick, laughing. “And all that d’Artagnan had to do
was to get hold of a few diamond studs which a lady wanted to wear at a
ball. Sounds simple, eh? But d’Artagnan had some fun on the way, and I’d
bet the last dollar in my pile we will. Hang this necktie! There; I’m
ready. Have we time for coffee and a crust?”