Cuypers administered the “_coup de grâce_.” “Ever heard of the Contessa D’Amaldi? And her nine pigeon-blood rubies? If I couldn’t prove it, my friend—I’d hold you twelve months on a charge of ‘fencing’ them while I sought round for evidence. Got that, Demetri? Very well, then—we shall be here at five o’clock. Understand! Have everything ready—you know what to do.” “I had to frighten the old vulture,” he explained jocularly as they passed out, “but in this particular instance, I really think he knows nothing. Lal Singh as you call him knows what you English call ‘the ropes.’” Sir Austin Kemble laughed. “Better than he knows what lies ahead of him,” he murmured, looking at his watch. “In about six hours time, shall we say?” Chapter XXVI Rendezvous Cuypers tapped his Smith-Wesson significantly. “Understand, friend Demetri,” he announced decisively, “no tricks! The first hint that you are playing us false—and——” He fingered the revolver with a wealth of meaning. The Greek made no reply. Evidently he did understand. Cuypers went on. “I shall be here at your side all the time. Never more than a few inches away from you. Your assistant, do you see? I shall have a pen and ink and write—when your visitor comes—understand? I shall also have _this_.” More business with the revolver. “My three friends here will take up their position behind that door which will be left ajar.” He pointed to the door of the shop-parlour that communicated with the passage leading to the back of the house. “Lal Singh, when he arrives, will walk into a trap. For your place will be covered from the outside as well, my good Stefanopoulos. A famous English detective is here as well as my three friends—no less a person than Chief-Inspector Bannister of New Scotland Yard. I expect you have heard of him—I’ve no doubt he has of you. He will work from the outside in case of an attempted get-away on the part of your visitor—do you understand, little rabbit?” The old “fence” nodded sullenly—he wasted no words. “To your places then, gentlemen. Remember we may have to wait some time. But it’s dark by five. I shall expect our man to come straight on here from the quay-side.” Anthony squeezed himself into the musty-smelling passage with his two eminent companions and arranged his own position so that he commanded the view through the crack of the door. “A chink of vantage,” he remarked to the Crown Prince. “A seat on the stairs will do for me for a time,” remarked Sir Austin sadly. “And for me,” supplemented Alexis, “this place has a most infernal smell. I doubt whether I can endure it for long.” Cuypers took a black velvet skull cap from the pocket of his jacket and put it on his round head. He patted it dramatically. “Pen and ink, Demetri—please! Quickly, too! And don’t forget, if the occasion demands to address me as ‘Pieter—Pieter Steen’ I am—for the next hour or so. Your very good clerk.”