“And now?” I whispered, when we had trussed him up, for all the world like a fat fowl. It seemed to me rather useless and silly, all this fuss, and yet, I confess, I found it exciting.
St. Hilary shook his head for silence. One of the duke’s cigarettes drooping at the corner of his mouth, he deliberately went through da Sestos’s pockets. As I watched him, I shook with silent laughter. St. Hilary played his part with such boyish gusto. They made a picture, those two: the duke straining frantically at his bonds; St. Hilary, deft and cool, quite to the manner born, tapping this pocket and that, and emptying the contents of each in a little heap on the table–money, keys, letters. When he had glanced through the last, he conscientiously returned each 139article to its respective pocket. Except the keys and the copy of a telegram. The keys he calmly transferred to his own pocket; the telegram he handed to me. I read it curiously:
“Please tell Mr. Hume that he is by all means to give you the clock at once.”
It was signed by Mrs. Gordon, and was directed to the duke. I looked at it thoughtfully.
“Supposing, St. Hilary, that while reading this telegram the candle’s flame happened to catch it. Naturally, I should let it go–like this,” I whispered, and stamped on the burning paper.
“Wise young man,” commented St. Hilary. “And now I am going to return the call of the duke. We are going to play our little game of tit for tat.”
He put on his cloak, then, drawing its folds about him, he beckoned me out into the sala.
“Yes, I am off to our comedian’s apartment. We must have those fourteen pages, if possible. Do you keep your eye on the duke there until four o’clock. Then let yourself down-stairs softly, very softly. Return noisily, very noisily. Imagine you have been dining, as the poet says, not wisely but too well. You will then be horrified to discover that our lord duke is blindfolded, strapped, and gagged. You release him with 140cries of concern. You are all sympathy. We have done our work skilfully enough so that he can not know we are the aggressors. It is true, he may guess. I shall return here to-morrow morning, probably not before noon. We shall need a few hours’ sleep. I hope I shall bring those fourteen pages with me, then we can amuse ourselves with our clock.”
“But our beast of prey in there. Though he can not see or move, don’t forget he can hear. Keeping still until four o’clock in the morning does not appeal to me in the least. Why not shut him up in my coat-closet until it is time to release him?”
“Excellent.”
We entered my room again, and, in spite of his struggles, stood the duke upright in the narrow closet. Then, leaving him standing there like a mummy, we turned the key on him and left him to his reflections.
“Now I’m off,” whispered St. Hilary.
When he had closed the door behind him, I took the seat in front of the clock. I waited for the clock to strike the hour of two.
The silver bell struck the three-quarter-hour. The minutes dragged on. As I sat there, staring at the clock, my eyes on its face, it seemed a thing sinister, half alive. Its yellow face took on a 141look that was half human. It made faces at me. It mocked me.
And then at last a spring whirred. The little silver bells, sweet as an elfin chime in fairyland, shocked me into rigid attention. It was two o’clock. I watched the doors eagerly.
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