"You recognized the woman?" he said softly. "Just so. I thought you would, and I was sorry to ask you to perform such an unpleasant task but it was absolutely necessary. Now," he continued, taking up his bundle of papers again, "I want you to describe the man who met you and your maid on your arrival at Hull the other night. Of course you saw him?" "Certainly I saw him," replied Celia. "And I should know him again anywhere--the scoundrel!" The high official smiled and glanced at Fullaway. "You are thinking, Miss Lennard, that the man you then saw is the man who accompanied your maid to the hotel in which she was found dead," he said. "Well, that may be so--but it mayn't. That is why I want you to give us an accurate description of the man you saw. You described the maid very well indeed. Now describe the man." "I can do that quite well," said Celia, with assurance. "And I can tell you the circumstances. The steamer--the _Perisco_--got into the river at Hull about a quarter to nine and anchored off the Victoria Pier. We understood that she couldn't get into dock just then because of the tide, and that we must go on shore by tender. A tender came off--some of the people on board it came on our deck. There was a good deal of bustle. I went down to my cabin to see after something or other. Lisette came to me there, evidently much agitated, saying that her brother had come off on the tender to fetch her at once to their mother who was ill in London--dying. She begged to be allowed to go with him. Of course I said she might. She immediately picked up her suit-case and travelling coat out of our pile of luggage, and I went up with her on deck. She and the man--her brother, as I understood--got into a small boat which was alongside and went straight off to the pier: the tender was not leaving for shore for some time. And--that was the last I saw of her. It was all done in a minute or two." "Now--the man," suggested the chief softly. "A young man--about Lisette's age, I should say--twenty-seven to thirty anyway. Tallish. Dark hair, moustache, eyes, and complexion. Good-looking--in a foreign way. I had no doubt he was her brother--he looked French, though he spoke English quite well and without accent. Very respectably dressed in dark clothes and overcoat. He would have passed for a well-to-do clerk--that type. I spoke to him--a few words. He spoke well--had very polite, almost polished manners. Of course he was hurried--wanting to get Lisette away--he said they could just catch the last train to London." The chief shook his head.