It's Sunday; and the telegraph offices shut at twelve o'clock." "Oh, what a Government!" groaned the millionaire.

And he sank down gently on a chair beside the telephone, and mopped the beads of anguish from his brow.

They looked at him, and they looked at one another, cudgelling their brains for yet another way of communicating with the Paris police.
"Hang it all!" said the Duke.

"There must be some way out of the difficulty." "What way ?" said the millionaire.
The Duke did not answer.

He put his hands in his pockets and walked impatiently up and down the hall.