"Give him my card as he leaves the dining-room," I said, "and tell him that I am waiting to see him in the drawing-room."
In a few minutes, Don Pedro and Lesparre rose from the table, and Salter gave my card to the former.
"Pinkerton! Pinkerton! I don't know any one of that name; do I, Lesparre?"
"Possibly it may be some gentleman having business with you in connection with the fête," suggested Lesparre.
"Ah! very true; where is he, George? I will see him at once," said the Don, unsuspectingly.
Salter led the way to the drawing-room, where I alone was waiting, the rest of the party having waited in the vestibule. As he entered, followed by Lesparre, I rose and said:
"Juan Sanchez, I arrest you, and you are now my prisoner!" and, so saying, I put my hand on his shoulder.
He turned very pale, and sat down in the nearest chair, while Lesparre quickly brought him a glass of water. I then continued:
"Juan Sanchez, or José Gomez more properly, we will retire to the library if you wish, as we may be interrupted here by the arrival of some of your friends, and I do not wish to expose you at present."
"What do you mean by addressing me in this manner?" he replied, trying to regain his composure. "My name is neither Sanchez nor Gomez."