Courage," he said, "that you are still believed here to
be dead?"
"Certainly!" I answered. "I have not communicated even with my lawyers.
My substitute's fate was enough to make me careful!"
"Does any one know on this side?"
"My cousin, Sir Gilbert Hardross. He is with us. He saw Polloch and tried
all he could himself."
"Good!" Staunton declared. "One more question. You say that on the
committee of the Rifle Club was a German officer. Do you know who he
was?"
"I do," I answered. "I saw him at the club when I went to meet my cousin.
His name is Count Metterheim, and he is on the military staff at the
Embassy here."
"Better and better," Staunton grunted. "That's all, thank you!"
I went back to the room where the others were waiting. The few people
whom I passed looked at me curiously. Already there were rumors flying
about the place. In less than five minutes I was summoned again. Staunton
looked up from his writing.
"The news has come through of the wrecking of the Cafe Suisse," he said.
"So far your story is substantiated.
Pages:
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372