It was a scene the like of which, it is safe to say, had never before been seen among all the strange scenes which had been enacted along the shores of that most lovely lake. A strange scene, and a strange company.
The faces of some thirty delegates, interrupted in their meal, were turned, with varying expressions, upon the new-comers. Lord John Lester sprang to his feet, with an impatient cry of “At last!” which was, however, drowned by the ecstatic croon of Mademoiselle the delegate for Roumania, “Ah! mon Dieu! Nous sommes sauvés! Un jour de plus, et nous serions deportées,” and a loud cry from Miss Gina Longfellow, who sprang from her seat at the other end of the table.
“Dio mio! We sure are copped!”
“Arrest the lady also, as an accomplice,” remarked Signor Cristofero quietly.
Dr. Franchi suddenly began to struggle violently, thus engaging the attention of the police. As suddenly, he ceased to struggle, and said calmly, “Ebbene. E scappata,” and it was apparent that Miss Longfellow had vanished.
“You will not find her now,” said her uncle. “She knows where to hide. Besides, what has she done, the innocent?”
“The passages are guarded,” Signor Cristofero remarked.
“Not, I think, my dear Angelo,” said Dr. Franchi, looking at him for the first time, “the passage she will take.... So, Angelo, this is your work. I might have guessed. Gentlemen, my only and distinguished brother.”
With a bow he introduced Signor Cristofero to his guests.
The detective smiled grimly at him, and addressed him in the Italian of the Lombardy Alps.