But M.
Fortunat understood how to force doors open, and his manoeuvres
succeeded so well that he was finally allowed to enter a small
sitting-room, while the servant went off, saying: "I will go and
inform monsieur."
Instead of wasting time in congratulating himself on this first
achievement the agent began to inspect the room in which he found
himself, as well as another apartment, the door of which stood
open. For he was of the opinion that a dwelling-place indicates
the character of its inmate, as surely as a shell indicates the
form of the creature that inhabits it. M. Wilkie was comfortably
lodged; but his rooms were most pretentiously ornamented. They
were indeed decorated in more than doubtful taste. There were
very few books lying about, but costly riding-whips, spurs,
rifles, cartridge-boxes, and all the paraphernalia of a
fashionable sporting man, were here in abundance.
The only pictures on the wall were a few portraits of celebrated
horses, which foreshadowed the fact that M. Wilkie must have, at
least, an eighth share in some well-known racer. After this
inspection, M. Fortunat smiled complacently. "This young fellow
has expensive tastes," he thought. "It will be very easy to
manage him."
However his reflections were interrupted by the return of the
servant, who exclaimed: "My master is in the dining-room, and if
monsieur will enter----"
The heir-hunter did enter, and found himself face to face with M.
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