“But he must go to the consul’s in person, so as to establish his identity.”
“Oh, is that necessary?”
“Quite indispensable.”
“And where is the consulate?”
“There, on the corner of the square,” said Fix, pointing to a house two hundred steps off.
“I’ll go and fetch my master, who won’t be much pleased, however, to be disturbed.”
The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer.
CHAPTER VII.
WHICH ONCE MORE DEMONSTRATES THE USELESSNESS OF PASSPORTS AS AIDS TO DETECTIVES
The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly made his way to the consul’s office, where he was at once admitted to the presence of that official.
“Consul,” said he, without preamble, “I have strong reasons for believing that my man is a passenger on the ‘Mongolia.’” And he narrated what had just passed concerning the passport.