The envelope
in which Charles had placed the notes lay on the table before him.
He clutched it nervously. "I am at a loss, gentlemen," he said, in
an excited voice, "to account for this interruption." He spoke with
a tremor, yet with all the politeness to which we were accustomed in
the little curate and the Honourable David.
"No nonsense!" Charles exclaimed, in his authoritative way. "We know
who you are. We have found you out this time. You are Colonel Clay.
If you attempt to resist--take care--I will handcuff you!"
The military gentleman gave a start. "Yes, I _am_ Colonel Clay," he
answered. "On what charge do you arrest me?"
Charles was bursting with wrath. The fellow's coolness seemed never
to desert him. "You _are_ Colonel Clay!" he muttered. "You have the
unspeakable effrontery to stand there and admit it?"
"Certainly," the Colonel answered, growing hot in turn. "I have done
nothing to be ashamed of. What do you mean by this conduct? How dare
you talk of arresting me?"
Charles laid his hand on the man's shoulder. "Come, come, my
friend," he said. "That sort of bluff won't go down with us. You
know very well on what charge I arrest you; and here are the police
to give effect to it."
He called out "Entrez!" The police entered the room.
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