“Madame Olivier left Paris last night.”
“For Italy?”
“For Italy, sir. As far as we can judge, they are both making for the resort you indicated—though how you knew that”
“Ah, that is not the cap with the feather for me! That was the work of Hastings here. He conceals his intelligence, you comprehend, but it is profound for all that.”
Harvey looked at me with due appreciation, and I felt rather uncomfortable.
“All is in train, then,” said Poirot. He was pale now, and completely serious. “The time has come. The arrangements are all made?”
“Everything you ordered has been carried out. The governments of Italy, France and England are behind you, and are all working harmoniously together.”
“It is, in fact, a new Entente,” observed Poirot dryly. “I am glad that Desjardeaux is convinced at last. Eh bien, then, we will start—or rather, I will start. You, Hastings, will remain here—yes, I pray of you. In verity, my friend, I am serious.”
I believed him, but it was not likely that I should consent to being left behind in that fashion. Our argument was short but decisive.
It was not until we were in the train, speeding
