I was more than surprised to find that he knew about this business.  He saw it, and uttered one of his peculiar laughs.

“He didn’t think I knew it,” he said.  “But I did!  His cleverness is a little too marked.  He overacts his parts, and even Shakespeare will tell you how foolish a proceeding that is.  If you doubt my word concerning my stay in Paris, let him continue to watch me.  You know where I am living, and for that reason you can come and see me whenever you like.  As a proof of my sincerity, may I suggest that you give me the pleasure of your company at dinner to-night.  Oh, you needn’t be afraid.  I’m not a Caesar Borgia.  I shall not poison your meat, and your wine will not be drugged.  It will be rather a unique experience, detective and criminal dining together, will it not?  What do you say?”

The opportunity was so novel, that I decided to embrace it.  Why should I not do so since it was a very good excuse for keeping my man in sight?  He could scarcely play me any tricks at a fashionable restaurant, and I was certainly curious to study another side of this man’s complex character.  I accordingly accepted his invitation, and promised to meet him at the well-known restaurant he named that evening.

“In the meantime you will telegraph to your clients, I suppose,” he said.  “You may be able to give me their reply this evening when we meet.”

“I shall hope to be in a position to do so,” I answered, after which he bade me good-bye, and picking up his hat and stick left the room.

“Well,” I said to myself when I was alone once more, “this is the most extraordinary case upon which I have ever been engaged.  My respect for Mr. Hayle’s readiness of resource, to say nothing of his impudence, is increasing by leaps and bounds.  The man is not to be met every day who can rob his partners of upwards of a hundred and seventy thousand pounds, and then invite the detective who is sent after him to a friendly dinner.”

I sat down and wrote a letter to Miss Kitwater, telling her all that had occurred; then went out to despatch it with a telegram to Kitwater himself, informing him of the offer Hayle had made.  I could guess the paroxysm of rage into which it would throw him, and I would willingly have spared his niece the pain such an exhibition must cause her.  I could see no other way out of it, however.  The message having been despatched, I settled myself down to wait for a reply, with all the patience I could command.  In my own mind I knew very well what it would be.  It was not so much the money that Kitwater wanted, as revenge.  That Hayle’s most miserable offer would only increase his desire for it, I felt certain.  Shortly after three o’clock, the reply arrived.  It was short, and to the point, and ran as follows—­

“Tell him I will have all or nothing.”