But Fetherston laughed, which only irritated him the more. He raved like a caged lion, until the veins in his brow stood out in great knots; but, finding all protests and allegations useless, he at last became quiet again, and apparently began to review the situation from a purely philosophical standpoint, until, some ten minutes later, another motor-car dashed up and in it were an inspector and four plain-clothes constables, who had been sent over from Maldon in response to Deacon's message for assistance.
When they entered Pietro became voluble, but the narrow-eyed doctor of Pimlico remained sullen and silent, biting his lips. He saw that he had been entrapped by the very man whom he had believed to be as clay in his hands.
The scene was surely exciting as well as impressive. The half-furnished, ill-lit dining-room was full of excited men, all talking at once.
Unnoticed, Walter drew Enid into the shadow, and in a few brief, passionate words reassured her of his great affection.
"Ah!" she cried, bursting into hot tears, "your words, Walter, have lifted a great load of sorrow and apprehension from my mind, for I feared that when you knew the truth you would never, never forgive."
"But I have forgiven," he whispered, pressing her hand.
"Then wait until we are alone, and I will tell you everything. Ah! you do not know, Walter, what I have suffered—what a terrible strain I have sustained in these days of terror!"
But scarcely had she uttered those words when the door reopened and a man was ushered in by Deacon, who had gone out in response to the violent ringing of the bell.
"This is Mr. Bailey, tenant of the house, gentlemen," said the sergeant, introducing him with mock politeness.
Fetherston glanced up, and to his surprise saw standing in the doorway a man he had known, and whose movements he had so closely followed—the man who had gone to Monte Carlo for instructions, and perhaps payment—the man who had passed as Monsieur Granier!