The Chief of Police shook his head sadly, he raised one arched eyebrow, and scratched the back of his neck; he was evidently much troubled. “An order has been applied for — for the extradition of yourself and others, Excellency. What am I to do?”
De Richleau was thinking quickly. “What is the procedure in such cases,” he asked.
“It is my duty to issue a warrant for the arrest of you and your friends.”
“You have not done it yet?”
“No, Altesse, when I saw your name on the paper the memory of the old days came to me, I thought to myself ‘tomorrow will do for this — tonight I will go informally to pay my respects to my old patron’.”
“That was very good of you, Fritz; tell me, what happens when this warrant is executed?”
“There is a man from Russia here. He will identify you; we shall supply an escort to the frontier, and with him you will go back to Moscow to be tried.”
“Do you know the name of the man they have sent?”
“Yes, Altesse. It is an important man, a Kommissar Leshkin. He stays in this hotel.”
De Richleau nodded. “Now if we leave Austria tonight, this man will follow us, will he not, and apply for our extradition in any country in which he finds us?”