cornered as he was, that he did not draw his
knife and attack you."

"But I had a pistol!" I said.

"Despujol does not fear pistols. Before you could pull the trigger he
could have pounced upon you like a cat!" replied the police official.

"Well, he certainly entirely misled me," I exclaimed. "I even offered
him an apology for my attitude towards him."

The three men laughed heartily.

"An apology to Despujol!" cried the Chief of Police. "How very
amusing!"

"I consider that I was very lucky," I said. "He seems to be a most
desperate character."

"He is," answered Senor Andrade. "We have had inquiries for him from
all over Europe. During the war it seems that he served as a spy of
Germany in France, hence the military authorities there are very
anxious to get him."

"But you think he lives in France and crosses the frontier every now
and then."

"Yes. We received information to that effect about a year ago. He
probably lives as a poor, but perfectly honest man in one of the
remote villages in the Pyrenees, and is perhaps held in high esteem by
all around him. It was the case of the notorious Maurice Tricoche who
escaped us for years and lived near Luchon until he was betrayed by a
woman whose husband he had maltreated. Perhaps Despujol will also be
betrayed. We hope so!"

"I cannot understand why the fellow dared to put foot into Madrid when
he knows how active we are in search of him," remarked Senor Rivero,
turning to me. "He must have followed you with evil intent. The
explanation of mistaking your room was, of course, a good one, but
entirely false."

I longed to tell the police all about the mystery of Stretton Street,
and the grave suspicions concerning the great international financier
who was at that moment at the Ritz. Yet I hesitated for two reasons,
the first being that I feared lest my story should be disbelieved,
and secondly, because I had, on behalf of the beautiful girl with
whom I had fallen in love, set out to solve the enigma by myself, and
bring the culprit to justice.

"If Despujol is arrested I will willingly come forward and give
evidence--that is, if I am still in Spain," I promised.

But both police officials shrugged their shoulders, and the detective
remarked:

"Despujol is a will o' the wisp. There seems little hope of our ever
securing him. Nevertheless we shall continue to do our best to allow
you to face him again one day. And then, senor, you will realize what
a mir