No one knew how he got in; no one had seen him before; but suddenly he was there.
The only announcement of his arrival was when the music stopped abruptly in the middle of a bar. Not all at once, but gradually, in little groups, the dancers shuffled to stillness, became frozen to the floor as the first instinctive turning of eyes towards the orchestra platform steered other eyes in the same direction.
He stood in the centre of the dais, in front of the microphone. No one had a moment's doubt that it was the Saint, although his face was masked. The easy poise of his athletic figure in the faultlessly tailored evening clothes was enough introduction, combined with the careless confidence with which he stood there, as if he had been a polished master of ceremonies preparing to make a routine announcement. The two guns he held, one in each hand, their muzzles shifting slightly over the crowd, seemed a perfectly natural part of his costume.
"May I interrupt for a moment, ladies and gentlemen?" he said.
He spoke quietly but the loud-speakers made his voice audible in every corner of the room. Nobody moved or made any answer. His question was rather superfluous. He had interrupted, and everyone's ears were strained for what he had to say.
"This is a holdup," he went on in the same easy conversational tone. "You've all been expecting it, so none of you should have heart failure. Until I've finished, none of you may leave the room — a friend of mine is at the other end of the hall to help to see that this order is carried out."
A sea of heads screwed round to where a shorter stockier man in evening clothes that seemed too tight for him, stood blocking the far entrance, also masked and also with two guns in his hands.
"So long as you all do exactly what you're told, I promise that nobody will get hurt. You two" — one of his guns flicked towards the countess' bodyguards, who were standing stiff-fingered where they had been caught when they saw him — "come over here. Turn your backs, take out your guns slowly and drop them on the floor."
His voice was still quiet and matter-of-fact but both the men obeyed like automatons.
"Okay. Now turn round again and kick them towards me… That's fine. You can stay where you are, and don't try to be heroes if you want to live to boast about it."