The ambassador struck a bell upon his table. One of his secretaries promptly appeared.
“Send Colonel Defarge to me at once,” his chief ordered.
There was a brief pause. The ambassador was busy writing at his table. Pailleton, who was breathing heavily, said nothing. Presently an officer in French uniform entered.
“Monsieur le Colonel,” the ambassador said, stretching out his hand towards Pailleton, “you will accept the charge of this man, whom you will consider under arrest. I take the full responsibility for this proceeding. You will conduct him to your rooms here and you will search him. Any document found in his possession you will bring to me. When you have finished, let me know and I will give you an authority to proceed to his apartments in the Milan Hotel. You understand?”
“Certainly, my chief.”
The officer saluted and moved to Pailleton.
“You will come quietly, monsieur, is it not so?” he asked.
Pailleton waved him away. He turned to the ambassador.
“Monsieur,” he decided, “I will go to Brazil.”