his lordship haughtily, "and if
you had not been so beastly clever you would have believed me. I am the
Earl of Fairholme, a fact that can be readily substantiated by dozens of
people here in Paris, and this is Mr. Reginald Brett, a friend of mine,
who would have probably discovered the mystery of my friend's
disappearance and the whereabouts of those diamonds by this time if you
had not interfered."

His lordship was hardly coherent with annoyance, but the acute official
had now convinced himself that a stupid mistake had been committed by
his department.

He became apologetic and suave. He explained that their mysterious
proceedings had to some extent committed them in the eyes of the police
to secret knowledge of the crime which had so thoroughly aroused the
detective departments in both London and Paris.

Evidently Scotland Yard had not advised the French police of Mr. Brett's
official connection with the hunt for the murderers. The agents of the
Paris Bureau had watched Brett's comings and goings during the day, and
the detectives' suspicions, once aroused, were intensified when his
friend, Lord Fairholme, sought the aid of two uniformed policemen to
break in the door of the Turkish residents in the Rue Barbette.

Even now, politely concluded the commissary, he would regretfully be
compelled to detain them for a little while, until he verified their
statements. Meanwhile, they would not be subject to any further
indignities, and might procure such refreshments as they desired. They
would probably be set at liberty within a couple of hours.

At 1.30 a.m. Brett and Fairholme were ushered forth from the doors of
the prefecture and stood in freedom in the street.

"Where now?" said Fairholme.

"To the hotel," replied Brett, wearily. "I must have sleep, so I consign
the Turks, and the Sultan's diamonds, and every one concerned with the
Albert Gate mystery, to perdition for the next eight hours."

Notwithstanding his weariness, Brett rose early next morning. His
companion slept like a top, and the barrister had to shake the earl
soundly by the shoulder before the latter woke into conscious existence
and sat up in bed sleepily demanding--

"What's up? Where's the fire?"

"I want you to dress at once," said Brett cheerily, "and join me at
breakfast. You must leave for London by the 11.50 train."

"Am I such a nuisance then that I have to be packed off at a moment's
notice?" said the earl.

"By no means. Dec