The man was surprised by the sudden incursion of customers. He came out looking puzzled and alarmed.
"Have you any letters here for Monsieur Jean Beaujolais?" said Brett.
"No, monsieur."
"Have you received any letters for a person of that name?"
"No, monsieur."
"I suppose you never heard the name of Jean Beaujolais before in your life?"
"I think not, monsieur."
"Then," exclaimed Brett, turning quietly away, "I fear you must be arrested. These two gentlemen"—and he nodded towards the detectives—"will take you to the Prefecture, where perhaps your memory may improve."
The man blanched visibly. His teeth chattered, and his hands shook as if with ague, whilst he nervously arranged some small objects on the counter.
"I cry your pardon, monsieur," he stammered, "but you will understand that I receive letters at my shop for a small fee, and I cannot remember the names of all my customers. I will search with pleasure among those now in my possession to see if there are any for M. Beaujolais."