id Guerchard, in his husky, gentle
voice.

There came a loud knocking on the front door, the sound of excited
voices on the stairs. The door opened, and in burst M. Gournay-Martin.
He took one glance round the devastated room, raised his clenched hands
towards the ceiling, and bellowed, "The scoundrels! the dirty
scoundrels!" And his voice stuck in his throat. He tottered across the
room to a couch, dropped heavily to it, gazed round the scene of
desolation, and burst into tears.

Germaine and Sonia came into the room. The Duke stepped forward to
greet them.

"Do stop crying, papa. You're as hoarse as a crow as it is," said
Germaine impatiently. Then, turning on the Duke with a frown, she said:
"I think that joke of yours about the train was simply disgraceful,
Jacques. A joke's a joke, but to send us out to the station on a night
like last night, through all that heavy rain, when you knew all the
time that there was no quarter-to-nine train--it was simply
disgraceful."

"I really don't know what you're talking about," said the Duke quietly.
"Wasn't there a quarter-to-nine train?"

"Of course there wasn't," said Germaine. "The time-table was years old.
I think it was the most senseless attempt at a joke I ever heard of."

"It doesn't seem to me to be a joke at all," said the Duke quietly. "At
any rate, it isn't the kind of a joke I make--it would be detestable. I
never thought to look at the date of the time-table. I keep a box of
cigarettes in that drawer, and I have noticed the time-table there. Of
course, it may have been lying there for years. It was stupid of me not
to look at the date."

"I said it was a mistake. I was sure that his Grace would not do
anything so unkind as that," said Sonia.

The Duke smiled at her.

"Well, all I can say is, it was very stupid of you not to look at the
date," said Germaine.

M. Gournay-Martin rose to his feet and wailed, in the most heartrending
fashion: "My pictures! My wonderful pictures! Such investments! And my
cabinets! My Renaissance cabinets! They can't be replaced! They were
unique! They were worth a hundred and fifty thousand francs."

M. Formery stepped forward with an air and said, "I am distressed, M.
Gournay-Martin--truly distressed by your loss. I am M. Formery,
examining magistrate."

"It is a tragedy, M. Formery--a tragedy!" groaned the millionaire.

"Do not let it upset you too much. We shall find your masterpieces--we
shall find them. Only give