He seized a glass of water and dashed it in the face of Mr. Van Jool. There was a moment’s scuffle, and no more of Mr. Van Jool. What emerged was a good deal like the shy Maurice Korust, who accompanied his brother at the music hall, but whose distaste for these gatherings had been Andrea’s continual lament. The Baron de Grost stepped back once more against the wall. His host was certainly looking dangerous. Mademoiselle Celaire was leaning forward, staring through the gloom with distended eyes. Around the table every head was turned towards the centre of the disturbance. It was Peter again who spoke.
“Let me suggest, Andrea Korust,” he said, “that you send your guests—those who are not immediately interested in this affair—into the next room. I will offer Mr. Von Tassen then the explanation to which he is entitled.”
Andrea Korust staggered to his feet. The nerve had failed. He was shaking all over. He pointed to the music room.
“If you would be so good, ladies and gentlemen?” he begged. “We will follow you immediately.”
They went with obvious reluctance. All their eyes seemed focussed upon Peter. He bore their scrutiny with calm cheerfulness. For a moment he had feared Korust, but that moment had passed. A servant, obeying his master’s gesture, pulled back the curtains after the departing crowd. The four men were alone.
“Mr. Von Tassen,” Peter said, easily, “you are a man who loves adventures. To-night you experience a new sort of one. Over in your great country, such methods are laughed at as the cheap device of sensation mongers. Nevertheless, they exist. To-night is a proof that they exist.”
“Get on to facts, sir,” the American admonished. “You’ve got to explain to me what you mean by passing yourself off as Thomas Von Tassen, before you leave this room.”
Peter bowed.
“With much pleasure, Mr. Von Tassen,” he declared. “For your information, I might tell you that you are not the only person in whose guise I have figured. In fact, I have had quite a busy week. I have been—let me see—I have been Monsieur le Marquis de Beau Kunel on the night when our shy friend, Maurice Korust, was playing the part of General Henderson. I have also been His Grace the Duke of Rosshire when my friend Maurice here was introduced to me as Francois Defayal, known by name to me as one of the greatest writers on naval matters. A little awkward about the figure I found His Grace, but otherwise I think that I should have passed muster wherever he was known. I have also passed as Sir William Laureston, on the evening when my rival artist here sang the praises of Imperial England.”
Andrea Korust leaned forward with venomous eyes.