millionaire.

"What's this? What's this?" he cried, stopping short, blinking.

"Just some more of Jacques' foolery!" cried Germaine in tones of the
last exasperation.

"But, my dear Duke!--my dear Duke! The oil!--the oil!" cried the
millionaire, in a tone of bitter distress. "Do you think it's my object
in life to swell the Rockefeller millions? We never have more than six
lamps burning unless we are holding a reception."

"I think it looks so cheerful," said the Duke, looking round on his
handiwork with a beaming smile of satisfaction. "But where are the
cars? Jean seems a deuce of a time bringing them round. Does he expect
us to go to the garage through this rain? We'd better hurry him up.
Come on; you've got a good carrying voice."

He caught the millionaire by the arm, hurried him through the outer
hall, opened the big door of the chateau, and said: "Now shout!"

The millionaire looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and said: "You
don't beat about the bush when you want anything."

"Why should I?" said the Duke simply. "Shout, my good chap--shout!"

The millionaire raised his voice in a terrific bellow of "Jean! Jean!
Firmin! Firmin!"

There was no answer.

CHAPTER VII

THE THEFT OF THE MOTOR-CARS

The night was very black; the rain pattered in their faces.

Again the millionaire bellowed: "Jean! Firmin! Firmin! Jean!"

No answer came out of the darkness, though his bellow echoed and
re-echoed among the out-buildings and stables away on the left.

He turned and looked at the Duke and said uneasily, "What on earth can
they be doing?"

"I can't conceive," said the Duke. "I suppose we must go and hunt them
out."

"What! in this darkness, with these burglars about?" said the
millionaire, starting back.

"If we don't, nobody else will," said the Duke. "And all the time that
rascal Lupin is stealing nearer and nearer your pictures. So buck up,
and come along!"

He seized the reluctant millionaire by the arm and drew him down the
steps. They took their way to the stables. A dim light shone from the
open door of the motor-house. The Duke went into it first, and stopped
short.

"Well, I'll be hanged!" he cried,

Instead of three cars the motor-house held but one--the hundred
horse-power Mercrac. It was a racing car, with only two seats. On them
sat two figures, Jean and Firmin.

"What are you sitting there for? You idle dogs!" bellowed the
millionaire.

Neither of the men answered, no