"Ask rather whom I am looking for?" retorted the inspector.
His gaze fell on Arthur, who did not look very attractive with his bloody clothes and torn shirt.
"Who is this tramp?" asked the inspector roughly.
"The tramp will have you thrown out if you are impertinent. My name is Arthur de Montferrand, and I am the son of the Marquis of Montferrand."
The inspector opened his eyes wide with astonishment. How could such a mistake happen to him? The son of the Marquis of Montferrand. The inspector would have preferred just now to hide himself in a corner. He stammered apology upon apology, and then in an embarrassed way muttered:
"I have got a painful mission. I am to look for a 'suspect' in this house."
"A 'suspect'?" whispered Aube, anxiously.
"Yes; conspirators who threaten the sacred person of the king."
"And you are looking for these people in my house?" asked Aube, apparently overwhelmed at the intelligence.