arrived.
It was not possible for him to be removed at the moment, so he had been
carried to an empty bedroom. Then had come the doctor and forbidden
his removal. Now for a week he had lain there and several of his other
voyageurs had departed. One did not know how these things got about, but
they spoke of infection. The doctor, who had just left--Dr. Gilette of
Russell Square, a most famous physician--had assured him that there was
no infection--no fear of any. But what did it matter--that? People were
so hard to convince. Monsieur would like a cigar? But certainly! There
were here some of the best.

Antoine undid the cabinet and opened a box of Havanas. John Dory
selected one and called for another liqueur.

"You have trouble often with your waiters, I dare say," he remarked.
"They tell me that all Frenchmen who break the law in their own country,
find their way, sooner or later, to these parts. You have to take them
without characters, I suppose?"

Antoine lifted his shoulders.

"But what could one do?" he exclaimed. "Characters, they were easy
enough to write--but were they worth the paper they were written on?
Indeed no!"

"Not only your waiters," Dory continued, "but those who stay in the
hotels round here have sometimes an evil name."

Antoine shrugged his shoulders.

"For myself," he said, "I am particular. We have but a few rooms, but we
are careful to whom we let them."

"Do you keep a visitors' book?"

"But no, Monsieur!" Antoine protested. "For why the necessity? There are
so few who come to stay for more than the night--just now scarcely any
one at all."

There entered, at that moment, a tall, thin man dressed in dark clothes,
who walked with his hands in his overcoat pockets, as though it were a
habit. He came straight to Dory and handed him a piece of paper.

John Dory glanced it through and rose to his feet. A gleam of
satisfaction lit his eyes.

"Monsieur Antoine," he said, "I am sorry to cause you any inconvenience,
but here is my card. I am a detective officer from Scotland Yard, and
I have received information which compels me with your permission, to
examine at once the sleeping apartments in your hotel."

Antoine was fiercely indignant.

"But, Monsieur!" he exclaimed. "I do not understand! Examine my rooms?
But it is impossible! Who dares to say that I harbor criminals?"

"I have information upon which I can rely," John Dory answered, firmly.
"This comes from a man who is no frie