in something akin to his ordinary appearance.

Now, the French Commissary of Police was no fool. He was an adept at
reading character, but he was certainly puzzled after a sharp scrutiny
of Brett's clear-cut, intelligent features. Nevertheless, he knew that
the criminal instinct is often allied with the most deceptive external
appearances. So he turned to the detective, and said--

"Tell me, briefly, what happened?"

"In accordance with instructions, monsieur," the man replied, "Philippe
and I ascertained the movements of the prisoner at the Grand Hotel.
During the afternoon he received messages from London and from some
persons in Paris, which documents are now probably in his possession. He
quitted the hotel at eight o'clock, disguised as you have seen. He
called for a moment at a house in the Rue du Chaussee d'Antin, the
number of which we noted, and then made his way to the Cafe Noir in
Montmartre. There we watched him from the door for nearly three hours.
He feigned drunkenness, but held communication with no person."

"Ha!" cried the commissary. This struck him as an important point. He
made a memorandum of it.

"Soon after eleven o'clock he rose hastily and quitted the cafe, crossed
the Boulevard, and hailed a cab. We would have followed him, but there
was no other vehicle in sight. As our instructions were to arrest him at
any moment he seemed likely to elude us, we seized him. He struggled
violently, and told us some story about his desire to follow another
cab, which he said had disappeared. We saw no cab such as he described,
and we treated his words as a mere device to abstract attention. We were
right. A moment later he made an attempt to escape, and we were
compelled to use considerable force to prevent him from being
successful."

The commissary turned his eyes to the prisoner and was seemingly about
to question him, when Brett said with a smile--

"Perhaps, monsieur, you will allow me to say a word or two."

"Certainly." The official knew that criminals generally implicated
themselves when they commenced explaining matters.

"You are acting, I presume," said the barrister, "in obedience to
reports received from the London police with reference to the murder of
four Turkish subjects at Albert Gate, and the theft of some valuable
diamonds belonging to the Sultan?"

This calm summary of the facts seemed to disconcert the Frenchman. It
astonished him considerably to find his prisoner thus indicat