"I suppose you believed I had been arrested?"
"Well," he replied, "the police took you away."
"For interrogation only," I replied. "But I am in search of my
friends."
"And the police are in search of them also, I believe," he replied
abruptly. "It does no good to the reputation of the hotel to have such
visitors, m'sieur."
"Then they have not been arrested!" I cried in delight.
"No. Mademoiselle, I believe, must have recognised the inspector of the
Surete from Paris as she was coming downstairs. She rushed back and
told her father, and hastily seizing her dressing-case, while he took a
small bag, they both descended the service stairs and made their exit by
the back premises. There was a door below which is always kept locked,
but Monsieur Shaw had somehow provided himself with a key in case of
emergency, for we found it in the lock. When the police, after
arresting you, went upstairs to take the pair, they found they had
already flown. They must have rushed down to the station and caught the
Paris night express, which was due just about the time they would arrive
there."
"And the police are furious," I said. "They must be."
"They have, I believe, just missed a most important, capture."
"What was the charge against them?" I inquired "Ah, they would not tell
me," was his reply. "They seemed to be acting with great caution and
secrecy. They made a careful examination of everything, and only left
about three-quarters of an hour ago."
And with that I was compelled to remain satisfied.