Once again he hesitated. Somehow or other, he felt that the moment was critical. Then a hand was laid quietly upon his arm, a man's voice whispered in his ear.
"Monsieur will be so kind as to step this way for a moment—a little matter of business."
"Who are you?" Hunterleys demanded.
"The Commissioner of Police, at monsieur's service."
CHAPTER XI
HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS
Hunterleys, in accordance with his request, followed the Commissioner downstairs into one of the small private rooms on the ground floor. The latter was very polite but very official.
"Now what is it that you want?" Hunterleys asked, a little brusquely, as soon as they were alone.
The representative of the law was distinctly mysterious. He had a brown moustache which he continually twirled, and he was all the time dropping his voice to a whisper.