ed at the
man speechlessly then turned from the door, and gazed in a helpless
fashion up and down the street.

"_Mille diables!_" he murmured, "what does it mean...."

He got into his car again. He looked about him like a man dazed by a
heavy blow. Returning to the Savoy, he went up to his room.

There was a telegram on the table. He opened it, and read:

"The name was George Copplestone Winslowe,
LESSING."

Monsieur Dupont uttered an extraordinary sound. In a flash the gloom and
uncertainty that had held him gave place to a seething excitement.
Crushing the telegram into his pocket, he rushed from the room. Two
minutes later he was on his way to Scotland Yard.

CHAPTER XXVIII

IN PURSUIT

Inspector Fay was occupied with the arrangement of the evidence to be
presented at the inquest on the body of Christine Manderson. He disliked
interruptions when at work, but the appearance of Monsieur Dupont
banished his annoyance, and called forth a smile of complacent triumph.

"My friend," said Monsieur Dupont, "you know me well enough to be sure
that I would not mislead you?"

There was that in the look of him that caused the smile to fade from the
inspector's face.

"Of course," he replied, laying down his papers.

"There is not a moment to lose. You must come with me."

"Come with you?"

"Now--immediately."

"But where?"

"Wherever it may be necessary to go. I do not yet know myself. I only
know that we must go."

"Impossible," the inspector declared. "I must be ready for the inquest."

"If you do not come with me," Monsieur Dupont retorted, "you will not be
ready for the inquest." He allowed his excitement to overflow. "Why do
you stand there?" he cried. "I tell you, there is not a moment to lose.
Cannot you see that I am serious? In all the years that you have known
me I have never been more serious. Come!"

"What for?" demanded the inspector sharply.

"To discover the truth of the death of Christine Manderson."

"The truth is discovered," returned the inspector, looking down at his
papers.

"The truth is _not_ discovered," said Monsieur Dupont.

"It is a perfectly clear case," the inspector retorted. "There cannot be
the smallest doubt that Layton killed her."

"Layton did not kill her. At the beginning I warned you to ignore the
obvious. But you did not. Layton is no more guilty of the crime than you
are."

"I am satisfied," the inspector said