to look after Guerchard. And, though I wouldn't undertake to answer for Lupin, I think I can answer for Guerchard. If he tries to escape with the coronet, I will wring his neck for you with pleasure. It would do me good. And it would do Guerchard good, too."
The millionaire stood reflecting for a minute or two. Then he said, "Very good; I'll trust him."
Hardly had the door closed behind the millionaire and the Duke, when Guerchard crossed the room quickly to Germaine and drew from his pocket the photograph of Victoire and the young man.
"Do you know this photograph of his Grace, mademoiselle?" he said quickly.
Germaine took the photograph and looked at it.
"It's rather faded," she said.
"Yes; it's about ten years old," said Guerchard.
"I seem to know the face of the woman," said Germaine. "But if it's ten years old it certainly isn't the photograph of the Duke."
"But it's like him?" said Guerchard.
"Oh, yes, it's like the Duke as he is now—at least, it's a little like him. But it's not like the Duke as he was ten years ago. He has changed so," said Germaine.
"Oh, has he?" said Guerchard.
"Yes; there was that exhausting journey of his—and then his illness. The doctors gave up all hope of him, you know."
"Oh, did they?" said Guerchard.
"Yes; at Montevideo. But his health is quite restored now."
The door opened and the millionaire and the Duke came into the room. M. Gournay-Martin set his bag upon the table, unlocked it, and with a solemn air took out the case which held the coronet. He opened it; and they looked at it.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he said with a sigh.
"Marvellous!" said the Duke.
M. Gournay-Martin closed the case, and said solemnly:
"There is danger, M. Guerchard, so I am going to trust the coronet to you. You are the defender of my hearth and home—you are the proper person to guard the coronet. I take it that you have no objection?"
"Not the slightest, M. Gournay-Martin," said Guerchard. "It's exactly what I wanted you to ask me to do."
M. Gournay-Martin hesitated. Then he handed the coronet to Guerchard, saying with a frank and noble air, "I have every confidence in you, M. Guerchard."
"Thank you," said Guerchard.
"Good-night," said M. Gournay-Martin.
"Good-night, M. Guerchard," said Germaine.
"I think, after all, I'll change my mind and go with you. I'm very short of sleep," said the Duke. "Good-night, M. Guerchard."
"You're never going too, your Grace!" cried Guerchard.
"Why, you don't want me to stay, do you?" said the Duke.
"Yes," said Guerchard slowly.
"I think I would rather go to bed," said the Duke gaily.
"Are you afraid?" said Guerchard, and there was challenge, almost an insolent challenge, in his tone.
There was a pause. The Duke frowned slightly with a reflective air. Then he drew himself up; and said a little haughtily:
"You've certainly found the way to make me stay, M. Guerchard."
"Yes, yes; stay, stay," said M. Gournay-Martin hastily. "It's an excellent idea, excellent. You're the very man to help M. Guerchard, Duke. You're an intrepid explorer, used to danger and resourceful, absolutely fearless."
"Do you really mean to say you're not going home to bed, Jacques?" said Germaine, disregarding her father's wish with her usual frankness.
"No; I'm going to stay with M. Guerchard," said the Duke slowly.
"Well, you will be fresh to go to the Princess's to-morrow night." said Germaine petulantly. "You didn't get any sleep at all last night, you couldn't have. You left Charmerace at eight o'clock; you were motoring all the night, and only got to Paris at six o'clock this morning."
"Motoring all night, from eight o'clock to six!" muttered Guerchard under his breath.
"Oh, that will be all right," said the Duke carelessly. "This interesting affair is to be over by midnight, isn't it?"
"Well, I warn you that, tired or fresh, you will have to come with me to the Princess's to-morrow night. All Paris will be there—all Paris, that is, who are in Paris."
"Oh, I shall be fresh enough," said the Duke.
They went out of the drawing-room and down the stairs, all four of them. There was an alert readiness about Guerchard, as if he were ready to spring. He kept within a foot of the Duke right to the front door. The detective in charge opened it; and they went down the steps to the taxi-cab which was awaiting them. The Duke kissed Germaine's fingers and handed her into the taxi-cab.
M. Gournay-Martin paused at the cab-door, and turned and said, with a pathetic air, "Am I never to sleep in my own house again?" He got into the cab and drove off.
The Duke turned and came up the steps, followed by Guerchard. In the hall he took his opera-hat and coat from the stand, and went upstairs. Half-way up the flight he paused and said:
"Where shall we wait for Lupin, M. Guerchard? In the drawing-room, or in M. Gournay-Martin's bedroom?"
"Oh, the drawing-room," said Guerchard. "I think it very unlikely that Lupin will look for the coronet in M. Gournay-Martin's bedroom. He would know very well that that is the last place to find it now."
The Duke went on into the drawing-room. At the door Guerchard stopped and said: "I will just go and post my men, your Grace."
"Very good," said the Duke; and he went into the drawing-room.
He sat down, lighted a cigarette, and yawned. Then he took out his watch and looked at it.
"Another twenty minutes," he said.
CHAPTER XIX
THE DUKE GOES
When Guerchard joined the Duke in the drawing-room, he had lost his calm air and was looking more than a little nervous. He moved about the room uneasily, fingering the bric-a-brac, glancing at the Duke and looking quickly away from him again. Then he came to a standstill on the hearth-rug with his back to the fireplace.
"Do you think it's quite safe to stand there, at least with your back to the hearth? If Lupin dropped through that opening suddenly, he'd catch you from behind before you could wink twice," said the Duke, in a tone of remonstrance.
"There would always be your Grace to come to my rescue," said Guerchard; and there was an ambiguous note in his voice, while his piercing eyes now rested fixed on the Duke's face. They seemed never to leave it; they explored, and explored it.
"It's only a suggestion," said the Duke.
"This is rather nervous work, don't you know."
"Yes; and of course you're hardly fit for it," said Guerchard. "If I'd known about your break-down in your car last night, I should have hesitated about asking you—"
"A break-down?" interrupted the Duke.
"Yes, you left Charmerace at eight o'clock last night. And you only reached Paris at six this morning. You couldn't have had a very high-power car?" said Guerchard.
"I had a 100 h.-p. car," said the Duke.
"Then you must have had a devil of a break-down," said Guerchard.
"Yes, it was pretty bad, but I've known worse," said the Duke carelessly. "It lost me about three