h, a few hours before, he had presented
Christine Manderson to his guests.

The inspector stood looking after him, fingering the cigarette
thoughtfully, a very curious expression on his face. He showed no
further signs of fatigue.

"I wonder why you lied to me," he muttered--and laid the cigarette on
the table.

He glanced down the list of names, and went to the door. The constable
had mounted guard over his prisoners with extraordinary dignity. The
voice of the danseuse was still raised in lamentation.

"Monsieur Dupont," the inspector called.

The constable passed on the summons--and Monsieur Dupont instantly
obeyed it.

CHAPTER VI

THE TRAIL OF CORPSES

The inspector closed the door behind him. "What has brought you back
into the arena?" he asked quietly.

"A riddle," the Frenchman answered, in an equally low tone.

"It must have been something pretty big to have tempted _you_," the
inspector remarked, coming closer to him.

"It was," Monsieur Dupont admitted.

The other glanced cautiously towards the curtains at the far end of the
room.

"Why are you here--in this house?" he demanded softly.

"By chance," Monsieur Dupont replied.

"Did you know Copplestone before?"

"I did not. I had never seen him. I came with my friend, Tranter."

"You were here all the evening?"

"Yes."

"Anything to tell me?" the inspector asked, looking at him intently.

Monsieur Dupont smiled.

"Only, my friend, that I imagine you will find it an interesting and
somewhat unusual case."

"That's not enough--from you," the inspector retorted.

"If I may be permitted to advise--it is a case in which you would do
well to ignore the obvious."

"I want more than that," insisted the inspector.

The huge Frenchman remained silent.

"You are not a man to waste your time on this kind of entertainment,"
said the inspector slowly. "Is there any connection between the crime
to-night, and your so-called 'riddle'?"

"The connection of death," said Monsieur Dupont.

There was something of awe in his voice and manner.

"For two years," he said, "I have been following in the track of
something, which, in the words of our great Dumas--'must have passed
this way, for I see a corpse.'"

"That quotation referred to a woman," said the inspector quickly.

"From me," returned Monsieur Dupont evenly, "it is sexless--at present."

The inspector frowned.

"Come," he said impatiently--"in what way are you mixed up in th