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"She doesn't even mention where they've gone," Amelia exclaimed, in a very bad humour. "The concierge may know," Isabel suggested, looking over my shoulder. We asked at his office. Yes, the gentleman's address was the Rev. Richard Peploe Brabazon, Holme Bush Cottage, Empingham, Northumberland. Any address where letters might be sent at once, in Paris?

At any rate, no such person as the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon was ever afterwards heard of and, for the matter of that, no such village exists as Empingham, Northumberland. We communicated the matter to the Parisian police. They were most unsympathetic. "It is no doubt Colonel Clay," said the official whom we saw; "but you seem to have little just ground of complaint against him.

When it came to the cross-examination, however, matters began to assume quite a different complexion. The prisoner set out by questioning Sir Charles's identifications. Was he sure of his man? He handed Charles a photograph. "Is that the person who represented himself as the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon?" he asked persuasively. Charles admitted it without a moment's delay.

The constable laid his hand on the prisoner's shoulder. "It's all right, my man," he said. "We've got warrants out against you. I arrest you, Edward Polperro, alias the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon, on a charge of obtaining money under false pretences from Sir Charles Vandrift, K.C.M.G., M.P., on his sworn information, now here subscribed to."

"Yours, with the profoundest respect and gratitude, "Otherwise RICHARD PEPLOE BRABAZON." Charles laid down the letter with a deep-drawn sigh. "Sey, my boy," he mused aloud, "no fortune on earth not even mine can go on standing it. These perpetual drains begin really to terrify me. I foresee the end. I shall die in a workhouse.

"We have got you this time!" I cried. "We know who you are, Dr. Polperro. You are Colonel Clay, alias Señor Antonio Herrera, alias the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon." I never saw any man so astonished in my life! He was utterly flabbergasted.

He answered with promptitude. He identified the prisoner without the slightest hesitation as the man who had swindled him under the various disguises of the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon, the Honourable David Granton, Count von Lebenstein, Professor Schleiermacher, Dr. Quackenboss, and others. He had not the slightest doubt of the man's identity. He could swear to him anywhere.

Why, when we began to suspect the Honourable David Granton, had we not, as if by accident, tried to knock his red wig off? Why, when the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon first discussed the question of the paste diamonds, had we not looked to see if any of Amelia's unique gems were missing?