But the dry-as-dust little man shook his grey head and replied:
"I fear, m'sieur, in my position, I am not permitted to reveal secrets entrusted to me. And her identity is a secret—a great secret."
"But I have discovered her identity where our English police had failed!" I protested. "Besides, am I not assisting you?"
"Very greatly, and we are greatly indebted to you, M'sieur Royle," he replied, with exquisite politeness; "but it is not within my province as Chef du Sureté to tell you facts which have been revealed to me under pledge of secrecy."
"Perhaps M'sieur Frémy may be able to tell me some facts," I suggested. "Remember, I am greatly interested in the mysterious affair."
"From mere curiosity—eh?" asked Van Huffel with a smile.
"No, m'sieur," was my earnest reply. "Because the arrest and condemnation of the assassin of Marie Bracq means all the world to me."
I hesitated for some moments, then, hoping to enlist his sympathy, I told him the truth.
"Upon the lady who is my promised wife rests a grave suspicion," I said, in a low, hard voice. "I decline to believe ill of her, or to think that she could be guilty of a crime, or——"