They reached the hotel in a few minutes.
"We may need your car again the moment Marthe Gobin has gone,"
said Hanaud.
"It shall wait here," said Ricardo.
"No," said Hanaud; "let it wait in the little street at the back
of my hotel. It will not be so noticeable there. You have petrol
for a long journey?"
Ricardo gave the order quietly to his chauffeur, and followed
Hanaud into the hotel. Through a glass window they could see
Wethermill smoking a cigar over his coffee.
"He looks as if he had not slept," said Ricardo.
Hanaud nodded sympathetically, and beckoned Ricardo past the
window.
"But we are nearing the end. These two days have been for him days
of great trouble; one can see that very clearly. And he has done
nothing to embarrass us. Men in distress are apt to be a nuisance.
I am grateful to M. Wethermill. But we are nearing the end. Who
knows? Within an hour or two we may have news for him."
He spoke with great feeling, and the two men ascended the stairs
to Ricardo's rooms. For the second time that day Hanaud's
professional calm deserted him. The window overlooked the main
entrance to the hotel. Hanaud arranged the room, and, even while
he arranged it, ran every other second and leaned from the window
to watch for the coming of the cab.
"Put the bank-notes upon the table," he said hurriedly. "They will
persuade her to tell us all that she has to tell. Yes, that will
do. She is not in sight yet? No."
"She could not be. It is a long way from the station," said
Ricardo, "and the whole distance is uphill."
"Yes, that is true," Hanaud replied. "We will not embarrass her by
sitting round the table like a tribunal. You will sit in that arm-
chair."
Ricardo took his seat, crossed his knees, and joined the tips of
his fingers.
"So! not too judicial!" said Hanaud; "I will sit here at the
table. Whatever you do, do not frighten her." Hanaud sat down in
the chair which he had placed for himself. "Marthe Gobin shall sit
opposite, with the light upon her face. So!" And, springing up, he
arranged a chair for her. "Whatever you do, do not frighten her,"
he repeated. "I am nervous. So much depends upon this interview."
And in a second he was back at the window.
Ricardo did not move. He arranged in his mind the interrogatory
which was to take place. He was to conduct it. He was the master
of the situation. All the limelight was to be his. Startling facts
would come to light elicited by his deft questions. Hanaud need
not fear. He would not frighten her. He would be gentle, he would
be cunning. Softly and delicately he would turn this good woman
inside out, like a glove. Every artistic fibre in his body
vibrated to the dramatic situation.