"I desire to search your file for May, 1886. Can I do so?"
"If m'sieur will have the kindness to fill up this form which we have
for the purpose, I will see that the file is brought," replied the man
politely, handing him a dip of paper and a pen.
Trethowen complied with this request, and waited rather impatiently,
taking Dolly's letter from his pocket, and glancing at it to reassure
himself that he had made no mistake in the date. There were many
persons in the office, some transacting business and others reading that
day's newspapers, which were spread open upon stands. Consequently he
did not observe the entrance of three men, who, although coming in
separately, met a short distance from where he stood, and held a hurried
consultation in an undertone.
One of the men, apparently a respectable workman, took out an unmounted
photograph from his wallet, glanced at it, and afterwards looked
intently at Hugh who stood calmly unconscious of the scrutiny.
"It's our man, without a doubt," declared the workman emphatically.
"I'd know him again amongst ten thousand."
"I wonder what his game is here?" asked the man who had dogged his
footsteps from the hotel.
"Cannot you see? He's asked for the file of the month when the affair
occurred," observed the third man. "Well, what of that?"
"The thing is quite plain. Out of morbid curiosity he wants to read
what the paper said," replied his companion, who, turning to the
workman, asked, "Have you any doubt that he is the same man?"
"None whatever."
"In that case we'll arrest him at once. He won't elude us this time."
The clerk had brought the formidable leather-bound volume and placed it
upon a table, with the usual injunction that no extracts were allowed to
be cut from it. Hugh was bending over it excitedly, and turning the
pages to find the issue of 10th May, when he heard a voice behind him
inquire--
"M'sieur Trethowen, I believe?"
Lifting his head in surprise, he faced his interrogator. "Yes," he
replied in French, "that's my name, although I have not the pleasure of
knowing yours, m'sieur."
"It scarcely will be a pleasure," the man replied, grinning
sardonically. "I'm Paul Chemerault of the Detective Department, and I
hold a warrant for your arrest," he added, producing a folded paper from
his overcoat pocket.
"My arrest!" cried Trethowen incredulously. "What for, pray?"
He glanced in dismay at the two other men, who had now stepped up, and
stood on either side of him.
"If m'sieur will come with us to the Bureau the charge will be
explained. It is scarcely necessary to read it here and create a scene,
is it?"
"I am an Englishman. By what right do you arrest me when I have
committed no offence?" Hugh asked indignantly.
"That you are English we are aware, and also that you live at Coombe
Hall, in the county of Cornwall. But as to your innocence--"
The man shrugged his shoulders significantly, and left his sentence
unfinished.
"Of what offence am I guilty? Why, I've only been in Paris a few days."
"We know that. You arrived with madame, and have since stayed at the
Hotel Continental."
"Tell me what suspicions you have against me, and I shall be pleased to
accompany you and make all necessary explanations."