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VIII. The Kidnapped Prime Minister

           

           “Letthemmount,”saidPoirot,carefullyfoldinghisgreytrousers.

           Inafewminutesthetwovisitorswereusheredin,andmyheartgavealeapasintheforemostIrecognizednolessapersonagethanLordEstair,LeaderoftheHouseofCommons;whilsthiscompanion,Mr.BernardDodge,wasalsoamemberoftheWarCabinet,and,asIknew,aclosepersonalfriendofthePrimeMinister.

           “MonsieurPoirot?”saidLordEstairinterrogatively.Myfriendbowed.Thegreatmanlookedatmeandhesitated.“Mybusinessisprivate.”

           “YoumayspeakfreelybeforeCaptainHastings,”saidmyfriend,noddingtometoremain.“Hehasnotallthegifts,no!ButIanswerforhisdiscretion.”

           LordEstairstillhesitated,butMr.Dodgebrokeinabruptly:

           “Oh,comeon—don’tlet’sbeataboutthebush!AsfarasIcansee,thewholeofEnglandwillknowtheholewe’reinsoonenough.Time’severything.”

           “Praybeseated,messieurs,”saidPoirotpolitely.“Willyoutakethebigchair,milord?”

           LordEstairstartedslightly.“Youknowme?”

           Poirotsmiled.“Certainly.Ireadthelittlepaperswiththepictures.HowshouldInotknowyou?”

           “MonsieurPoirot,Ihavecometoconsultyouuponamatterofthemostvitalurgency.Imustaskforabsolutesecrecy.”

           “YouhavethewordofHerculePoirot—Icansaynomore!”saidmyfriendgrandiloquently.

           “ItconcernsthePrimeMinister.Weareingravetrouble.”

           “We’reupatree!”interposedMr.Dodge.

           “Theinjuryisserious,then?”Iasked.

           “Whatinjury?”

           “Thebulletwound.”

           “Oh,that!”criedMr.Dodgecontemptuously.

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