"We don't know, yet."
"Does Curtis know?"
"He said he didn't, but I'll tell you something—I shan't be happy till I've had another chat with him."
"Can anyone say who 'John D. Curtis, of Pekin,' really is?" went on the reporter.
"That is the man we are looking for. If there are police officers present, I want them to understand that Curtis should be arrested at sight."
Everyone turned at the sound of the authoritative English voice which had intervened so unexpectedly in the conclave. They saw an elderly man, well dressed, and bearing the unmistakable tokens of good social standing. With him was a foreigner, a most truculent looking person, whose collar, shirt, and waistcoat carried other signs, quite as obvious, but curiously ominous in view of the cause of this gathering in the hall of the hotel.
"May I ask who you are, sir?" said Steingall.
"I am the Earl of Valletort," said the stranger, "and this is Count Ladislas Vassilan."
"Ah! Count Vassilan is not an Englishman?"
"No, but——"