"The case in question is the murder of Mr. Thorne at the 'Grand Hotel,' is it not?"
"Mademoiselle guesses correctly. She was a friend of the unfortunate gentleman's, if I mistake not?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Well," he said, in a confidential tone, while his companion, a slightly younger man, stood by regarding me and tugging at his moustache, "we should esteem it a favour if you would kindly relate all that has transpired this evening. When we saw him meet you we were not certain of his identity. His disguise was puzzling. Afterwards there could be no doubt, but he had then disappeared."
"I had thought that the police had relinquished their inquiries," I said, gratified, nevertheless, to know that they were still on the alert.
"It is when we relax our efforts slightly that we have the better chance of success," the detective replied. "Did the man give you any name?"
"No; he refused to tell me who he was."
"And what was his excuse for accosting you and demanding a tête-à-tête?"
"He said he wished to warn me of an impending peril. In brief, he told me that my life was in jeopardy."
"Ah!" the man ejaculated, as he exchanged a meaning glance with his companion. "And his pretence was to give you warning of it. Did he tell you by whom your life was threatened?"