"Not, I think, my dear Angelo," said Dr. Franchi, looking at him for the first time, "the passage she will take.... So, Angelo, this is your work. I might have guessed. Gentlemen, my only and distinguished brother." With a bow he introduced Signor Cristofero to his guests. The detective smiled grimly at him, and addressed him in the Italian of the Lombardy Alps. "This point is mine, I think, Silvio. It is a long war between us, in which you often score, but this point is mine." "I grant it you, my dear Angelo, without rancour. Your abilities have always been so near the level of my own that I can take defeat at your hands without mortification. You will at least pay me the tribute of acknowledging the ingenuity and partial success of my scheme." "That tribute I always pay you, Silvio. But, as has occasionally happened before, your ingenuity broke down at one point. You yielded to a whimsical impulse, and sent to the officials of the League a certain telegram couched in the words of the English version of a Hebrew psalm. When I heard this, I, remembering your addiction to the English translation of the psalms, identified you at once.... But this is no time for conversation. Later, a statement will be demanded of you. At present my business is to deliver you over to the law, and to give these gentlemen their liberty." "You will find no difficulty in either, my dear brother.... This, then, gentlemen and ladies, is good-bye. I must apologise for any inconvenience that may have been caused by your detention, either to yourselves or to the society which you represent, and I must thank you for the great pleasure you have afforded me by your company. I think that, at least, you will be able to report that you have suffered no great discomforts while my guests." "We have been most excellently entertained," Lord Burnley replied, and a murmur of assent ran round the table. The Albanian Bishop rose to his feet, lifting his glass. "Your health, sir," he said, and the other delegates drank the toast. (All except Lord John Lester, who impatiently muttered "Pshaw!") "Indeed," said Mlle. Binesco, "Dr. Franchi has been more than kind. Another few days, and we might have fallen into the hands of the iniquitous traffickers behind him and been deported overseas--but he personally has been most good to us. _All_ we could want...." Fergus Macdermott had pushed to the front of the interested onlookers. "I'd like to ask you one question, sir. Why didn't your people finish the job they began on myself--if it was your people, and not, as I suspect, some Sinn Fein scoundrels?" The ex-cardinal gave his kindly smile.