“That was Lightman,” nodded Brassard, astonished at the effect his words produced. “It was his public name. But my clerk will know more, for he was interested in the matter, which I was not.” He rang the bell, and an elderly Frenchman came in. “Do you remember the Red Circle, Jules?” The aged Jules nodded. “Very well, m’sieur. I was at the execution. What horror!” He raised his two hands in an expressive gesture. “Why was he called the Red Circle?” demanded Froyant. “Because of a mark.” The man drew his long finger about his neck. “Around his throat, m’sieur, was a red circle; it was the colour of his skin, and it was a legend long before the execution that no knife would ever touch him, for such marks are said to be charmed. I think it was a birth-mark, but I know that on the way to the execution I met a great number of people--my friend Thiep, for example--who were sure that the execution would not take place. If they were as sure that the executioner and his assistants would be drunk,” added Jules, “and that they had put up the guillotine in the morning so badly that the knife would not work, I think they would have been more intelligent.” Mr. Froyant was now breathing quickly. Little by little the truth was being revealed, and now he saw the whole thing clearly. “What happened to the Red Circle?” he asked. “I do not know,” shrugged Jules. “He was sent to one of the island settlements, but Marl was released because he had given evidence for the Republic. I heard some time ago that Lightman had escaped, but I don’t know how true that is.” Lightman had escaped, as Froyant had already guessed. He passed that day in a feverish search of all available documents, in a visit to the Public Prosecutor, and he ended a strenuous twelve hours in the bureau of the prison governor, examining photographs. It may be said that Mr. Harvey Froyant went to bed that night in the Hotel Anglaise with a feeling of complete satisfaction, and with the added pleasure that he had succeeded where the cleverest police had failed. The secret of the Crimson Circle was no longer a secret. Chapter XXX. The Silencing of Froyant Harvey Froyant’s visit to France had not escaped attention, and both Derrick Yale and Inspector Parr knew that he had gone; so also did the Crimson Circle, if Thalia Drummond’s telegram reached its destination. Curiously enough these telegrams and messages which Thalia was sending was the excuse for Derrick Yale’s call at police head-quarters, on the very evening that Mr. Froyant was returning triumphantly from France. Parr, returning to his office, found Yale sitting at the inspector’s table, delighting a small but select audience of police officials with an exhibition of his curious power. His ability in this direction was amazing. From a ring which a police inspector handed him he told the mystified hearer not only his known history but, to his confusion, a little secret history of the man’s life.