"Monsieur is at liberty to act as he deems best," said my visitor. Therefore, irritated by the fellow's manner, and in the hope that he would at the eleventh hour relent, I pressed the bell. It rang loudly, and I heard old Browning go to the telephone beneath the stairs. In a few minutes the constable would arrive, and at least one member of the dangerous gang would be secured. "Perhaps you will let me pass," he said, crossing towards the door immediately after I had rung the bell. But I placed myself against it, revolver in hand, preventing him and holding him at bay. "Very well," he laughed. "I fear, Mr. Biddulph, that you are not acting judiciously. You refuse to accept my statement that I am here as your friend!" "Because you, on your part, refuse to reply to my questions." But he only shrugged his shoulders again without replying. "You know quite well where my wife is." "Alas! I do not," the fellow declared emphatically. "It was to obtain information that I called." "You cannot deny that you know that pair of criminals, Reckitt and Forbes?" "I have surely not denied knowledge of them!" "Yet you refuse to tell me who this man is who enticed my wife from my side--the man who presided over that secret council at the George Hotel at Stamford!" "I am prepared to be frank with you in return for your frankness, monsieur," he answered. But I saw in his evasive replies an intention to mislead me into a belief that he was actuated towards me by friendly motives. Therefore my antagonism increased. He had defied me, and I would give him into custody. Presently there came a loud knocking at the door, and, upon my opening it, a police-sergeant stood upon the threshold. "I give this man into custody," I said, addressing him and pointing to the Frenchman. "Upon what charge, sir?" asked the burly officer, whose broad shoulders filled the doorway, while I saw a constable standing behind him. "On suspicion of being associated with the theft of the diamonds of the Archduchess Marie Louise," I replied. "Come, monsieur," laughed my visitor, speaking again in English, "I think we have carried this sufficiently far." And, placing his hand in his breast-pocket, he produced a small folded yellow card bearing his photograph, which he handed to me. "Read that!" he added, with a laugh of triumph. I saw that the printed card was headed "Prefecture de Police, Ville de Paris," and that it was signed, countersigned, and bore a large red official seal. Quickly I scanned it, and, to my abject dismay, realized that Henri Guertin was chief of the first section of the _surete_--he was one of the greatest detectives of France! I stammered something, and then, turning to the sergeant, red and ashamed, I admitted that I had made a mistake in attempting to arrest so distinguished an official. The two metropolitan officers held the card in their hands, and, unable to read French, asked me to translate it for them, which I did.