In the circumstances, Derrick was not uncomfortably lodged. The lock-up
was an ancient, knock-down affair, and the Inspector had arranged that
Derrick should occupy one of the rooms in the adjoining police-station.
Here, Mr. Jacobs and Mr. Clendon found him, if not altogether resigned
to the situation, at any rate not cast down or despondent.
"Well, here we are," said Mr. Jacobs, cheerfully. "I hope they've made
you as comfortable as possible, Mr.--Green. I've brought a friend of
yours with me, and I have a message from another friend of yours, Miss
Grant. She says she will pay you a visit whenever you like to see her."
Derrick shook his head. "I don't want her to come here," he said. "But
I'm very glad to see Mr. Clendon."
"By the way," cut in Mr. Jacobs, "I ought to introduce this gentleman by
his right name, or, rather, title. You will be very much surprised to
hear, Mr. Green, that Mr. Clendon is the Marquess of Sutcombe. It's a
long story, but, with your permission, I will put it into a sentence.
His lordship is the elder brother, who was thought to be dead, but has
turned up--if his lordship will allow me the phrase."
"It is true," said Mr. Clendon, as we must still call him; and he made
the admission with an air of resignation and a gesture of regret. "But
we have come to talk of your affairs."
"Quite so, my lord," said Mr. Jacobs. "Now, Mr. Sydney Green--or shall I
call you, Mr. Derrick Dene?"
Mr. Clendon started slightly and bent his piercing eyes on Derrick, who
coloured and bit his lip.
"Yes, that's my name," he said; "but I don't know how you know it."
"My dear Mr. Dene," said Mr. Jacobs, blandly, "we people in Scotland
Yard know a great many things. Just as an instance, let me tell you what
I know about you. You were placed at an early age in the care of a
worthy couple named Jackson, who brought you up and started you in the
profession which I am sure you will adorn. Owing to a--well, let us say,
a misunderstanding--you left England--er--somewhat abruptly, and went
with a travelling circus to South America; in South America you left the
circus and found employment on a ranch, owned by a lady named Donna
Elvira----"
Derrick, frowning, stared at him and did not notice that Mr. Clendon had
quietly sunk into a chair and, with his hands leaning on his stick, was
looking fixedly at Derrick.