“I suppose you know it’s all up. They’ve got Barosa and Contesse Inglesia, and Lieutenant de Linto and heaps of others. But not his sister yet.” I affected not to hear this and took out a cigarette and lighted it. “Can you spare me one?” I put the case in my pocket. “If you want to get her out of the mess you’d better do as I’ve done. Out with everything. It’s the only way. I----” I jumped to my feet. “Look here, if you talk any more to me I shall act as deputy for those men outside, and when I’ve finished with you, you’ll find it difficult to talk at all.” That stopped him and he slunk away to the door and flopped into a chair staring at me and muttering to himself, probably cursing me as he had cursed the others. Soon afterwards M. d’Olliveira came back with a couple of police, and said that Volheno was coming and would arrive in about half an hour. Then he ordered the first of the prisoners to be brought in. The informer jumped away from the door as if it was on fire and crossed to the other side of the magistrate’s desk. The proceedings were very short--apparently for no purpose other than identification. I glanced at the prisoner and recognized him as one of the men I had seen at the house in the Rua Catania. He was the scoundrel named Henriques, who had been going to strike Inez when I had entered. He looked at the young informer with a scowl of hate and hissed out an execration. The magistrate appealed to me first. “You know this man, Mr. Donnington?” he said sharply, and the fellow turned a scowling face on me with a half defiant and wholly malicious expression. “Do I? If you know that, why ask me?” “Don’t trifle with me, sir.” “He knows him well enough. He saw him that night in the Rua Catania,” broke in the informer. “Hold your tongue,” was the rough rebuke. “Do you deny it, Mr. Donnington?” “You can draw what inference you please. I decline to be questioned by you or any one,” I replied. “I cannot too strongly warn you, Mr. Donnington, that any refusal to identify this man and any of his companions will render you suspect.” “I am quite ready to accept the responsibility.” He turned then to the informer and accepted his identification, made a note of it, and sent the prisoner away in custody. Another of the men I had seen in the house was brought in, and a very similar scene was enacted, except that I held my tongue. Three more followed and then a pause. When the door opened next time Dr. Barosa was brought in. “You know this man, Mr. Donnington?” asked d’Olliveira. “Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting him at the house of the Marquis de Pinsara. Good evening, Dr. Barosa;” and I rose and would have shaken hands with him had not the police prevented me. “Did you see him in Rua Catania?” asked the magistrate. “I have told you I met him elsewhere. That is my answer.”