"Good!" said M. Fuselier, and he signed to his clerk to call in another personage. The clerk understood, and Gurn was brought in between two municipal guards, and was followed by the young licentiate in law, Maître Roger de Seras, who represented his leader at most of these preliminary examinations. As Gurn came in, with the light from the window falling full on his face, M. Fuselier gave a curt order. "Muller, turn round and look at this man!" Muller obeyed, and surveyed with some bewilderment, and without the least comprehension, the bold head and the well-built, muscular frame of Lord Beltham's murderer. Gurn did not flinch. "Do you recognise that man?" the magistrate demanded. Muller ransacked his brains and looked again at Gurn, then shook his head. "No, sir." "Gurn, open your right hand," the magistrate ordered. "Show it," and he turned again to Muller. "The man before you seems to have been burned in the palm of the hand, as that scar shows. Can you not remember having seen that man at the Royal Palace Hotel?" Muller looked steadily at Gurn. "On my honour, sir, although it would be to my interest to recognise him, I am bound to acknowledge that I really and truly don't." M. Fuselier had a brief conversation aside with Juve, and then, the detective appearing to agree with him, turned once more to the night watchman. "Muller," he said, "the court is pleased with your frankness. You will be set free provisionally, but you are to hold yourself at the disposal of the court of enquiry," and he signed to the municipal guards to lead the gratefully protesting man away. Meanwhile Gurn's case appeared to him to be becoming much more serious, and much more interesting. He had the prisoner placed in front of him, while Juve, who had withdrawn into a dark corner of the room, never took his eyes off the murderer. "Gurn," he began, "can you give me an account of your time during the second half of December of last year?" Gurn was unprepared for the point-blank question, and made a gesture of doubt. M. Fuselier, probably anticipating a sensation, was just on the point of ordering Dollon to be called, when he was interrupted by a discreet tap on the door. His clerk went to answer it, and saw a gendarme standing at the door. At almost the first words he said, the clerk uttered an exclamation and wheeled round to the magistrate. "Oh, M. Fuselier, listen! They have just told me----" But the gendarme had come in. He saluted the magistrate and handed him a letter which M. Fuselier hastily tore open and read. "To M. Germain Fuselier, Examining Magistrate, The Law Courts, Paris.