“And you would like me to—?” asked Lindenwald. There was no savour of agitation in his voice, and Grey wondered how much or how little he knew.
“I thought perhaps you might aid me. Fortunately I have his description. I dined in company with a man last night who has seen him. He is tall, well set-up, and has fair hair, beard and moustache.”
“There are many such,” replied the Captain, shrugging his shoulders.
A servant entered with a burning wax taper, and Grey stepped aside for him to light the gas over the table. As he did so he faced Edson, and the illumination lit his features.
“Ah, there,” the caller whispered, a little nervously, “standing by the table behind you—there is a man of the very type. Perhaps that is he.”
Captain Lindenwald turned his head.
“Ha, ha!” he laughed, clapping his hand on Edson’s shoulder, “that is very droll, very. Do you remember what I told you yesterday at the Embassy?”
Edson nodded.
“Yes, yes, of course. But——”
“Well, it is he.”