“I think you know me—Mr. De Gex!” I exclaimed very firmly, my eyes fixed on him.
He started, and for a second went pale. Then in indignation, he exclaimed:
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“I am here to see you, Mr. De Gex,” I replied quite calmly.
“I don’t know you,” he declared angrily.
“Perhaps not,” I laughed. “But there are others with me here who wish to speak a few words with you.”
As I said this Superintendent Fletcher stepped forward, while behind him came the others.
“Mr. Oswald De Gex?” he asked. “Is that your name?”
The owner of the big mansion went pale to the lips, and muttered an affirmative.
“I hold a warrant for your arrest on the charge of the wilful murder of Gabrielle Engledue on the seventh of November last,” said the Superintendent. “Your accomplice Sanz is already under arrest, I may tell you, and orders have gone out to Paris and to Florence for the arrest of your friends Suzor and Moroni.” Then turning to his lieutenants, he gave orders for the great financier to be secured.