The next morning, however, before Mr. Ricardo was out of his bed,
M. Hanaud was announced. He came stepping gaily into the room,
more elephantinely elfish than ever.
"Send your valet away," he said. And as soon as they were alone he
produced a newspaper, which he flourished in Mr. Ricardo's face
and then dropped into his hands.
Ricardo saw staring him in the face a full description of Celia
Harland, of her appearance and her dress, of everything except her
name, coupled with an intimation that a reward of four thousand
francs would be paid to any one who could give information leading
to the discovery of her whereabouts to Mr. Ricardo, the Hotel
Majestic, Aix-les-Bains!
Mr. Ricardo sat up in his bed with a sense of outrage.
"You have done this?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Why have you done it?" Mr. Ricardo cried.
Hanaud advanced to the bed mysteriously on the tips of his toes.
"I will tell you," he said, in his most confidential tones. "Only
it must remain a secret between you and me. I did it--because I
have a sense of humour."
"I hate publicity," said Mr. Ricardo acidly.
"On the other hand you have four thousand francs," protested the
detective. "Besides, what else should I do? If I name myself, the
very people we are seeking to catch--who, you may be sure, will be
the first to read this advertisement--will know that I, the great,
the incomparable Hanaud, am after them; and I do not want them to
know that. Besides"--and he spoke now in a gentle and most serious
voice--"why should we make life more difficult for Mlle. Celie by
telling the world that the police want her? It will be time enough
for that when she appears before the Juge d'Instruction."
Mr. Ricardo grumbled inarticulately, and read through the
advertisement again.
"Besides, your description is incomplete," he said. "There is no
mention of the diamond earrings which Celia Harland was wearing
when she went away."
"Ah! so you noticed that!" exclaimed Hanaud. "A little more
experience and I should be looking very closely to my laurels. But
as for the earrings--I will tell you, Mlle. Celie was not wearing
them when she went away from the Villa Rose."
"But--but," stammered Ricardo, "the case upon the dressing-room
table was empty."
"Still, she was not wearing them, I know," said Hanaud decisively.
"How do you know?" cried Ricardo, gazing at Hanaud with awe in his
eyes. "How could you know?"
"Because"--and Hanaud struck a majestic attitude, like a king in a
play--"because I am the captain of the ship."
Upon that Mr. Ricardo suffered a return of his ill-humour.
"I do not like to be trifled with," he remarked, with as much
dignity as his ruffled hair and the bed-clothes allowed him. He
looked sternly at the newspaper, turning it over, and then he
uttered a cry of surprise.