Once comfortably seated, Brett resumed the conversation where he had broken it off in the train overnight.
"You say you know Hussein-ul-Mulk," he commenced.
"Yes," replied the King's messenger, "and what is more, I have discovered his residence since we parted. It seems that one of the attachés at the Embassy met him recently and thought it advisable to keep in touch with the Young Turkish party, of which Hussein-ul-Mulk is a shining light. So he asked him where he lived, and as the result I have jotted down the address in my note-book." Gaultier searched through his memoranda, and speedily found what he wanted.
"Wait a minute," interrupted Brett. "Does it happen to be No. 11, Rue Barbette?"
The barrister had more than once surprised his companion during the previous night, but this time Gaultier seemed to be more annoyed than startled.
"If you know all these things," he said stiffly, "I don't see why you should bother me to get you the information. I certainly gathered from your remarks that the only acquaintance you had with Hussein-ul-Mulk was obtained from the newspapers, and that individual himself has the best of reasons for not publishing his address broadcast."
Brett smiled.
"You mean," he said, "that Hussein-ul-Mulk does live at No. 11, Rue Barbette."
"Why, of course he does," was the irritable answer.