d which I do not now
remember."

"Ever tell you where he lived in London---at the time he was
visiting you?"

"No, monsieur--never."

"Did he ever come to your place accompanied by anybody? Bring any
friends there?"

M. Bonnechose put himself into an attitude of deep thought. He remained
in it for a moment or two; then he exchanged it for one of joyful
recollection.

"On one occasion, a lady!" he exclaimed. "A Frenchwoman. Tall--that is,
taller than is usual amongst Frenchwomen--slender--elegant. Dark--dark,
black eyes--not beautiful, you understand, but--engaging."

"Lisette!" muttered Celia.

"On only one occasion, you say, M. Bonnechose?" asked the chief.
"When was it?"

"About the time I speak of, monsieur. They came in one night--rather
late. They had a light supper--nothing much."

"He did not tell you who she was?"

"Not a word, monsieur! He was, as a rule, very secretive, this Federman,
saying little about his own affairs."

"You don't remember that he ever brought any one else there! No men, for
instance?"

M. Bonnechose shook his head. Then, once again, his face brightened.

"No!" he said. "But once--just once--I saw Federman talking to a man in
the street--Shaftesbury Avenue. A clean-shaven man, well built, brown
hair--a Frenchman, I think. But, of course, a stranger to me."

The chief exchanged a glance with Allerdyke and Fullaway--both knew what
that glance meant. M. Bonnechose's description tallied remarkably with
that of the man who had gone to Eastbourne Terrace Hotel with Lisette
Beaurepaire.

"A clean-shaven man, with brown hair, and well built, eh?" said the
chief. "And when--"

Just then an interruption came in the person of a man who entered the
room and gave evident signs of a desire to tell something to his
superior. The chief left his chair, went across to the door, and received
a communication which was evidently of considerable moment. He turned and
beckoned Blindway; the three went out of the room. Several minutes
passed; then the chief came back alone, and looked at his visitors with a
glance of significance.

"We have just got news of something that relates, I think, to the
very subject we were discussing," he said. "A young man has been found
dead in bed at a City hotel this morning under very suspicious
circumstances--circumstances very similar to those of the Eastbourne
Terrace affair. And," he went on, glancing at a scrap of paper which he
held in his hand, "the