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The fact that he was actually under arrest he regarded with more humour than seriousness, feeling that in the morning explanations would be made and the blunder rectified. No more honourable or upright man was there in France than Paul Le Pontois, and this order from the Sûreté had held him utterly speechless and astounded.
The general endeavoured by dint of persuasion to learn something more, but the man was true to his promise, and would make no further statement. Indeed, earlier that morning he had been closely questioned by the commandant, but had been equally reticent. Le Pontois was a favourite in the neighbourhood, and no man would dare to lift his voice against him.
"But who are you?" demanded Le Pontois angrily. "Who are you that you should hold us up like this?" "Perhaps, m'sieur, it would be better if you descended and escorted mademoiselle as far as your gates. We wish to speak to you for a moment upon a little matter which is both urgent and private." "Well, cannot you speak here, now, and let us proceed?" "Not before mademoiselle," replied the man.
"On Wednesday, the fourteenth day of January, you went to Commercy, where, at the Café de la Cloche, you met a certain Belgian who passed under the name of Laloux." "I recollect!" cried Le Pontois quickly. "I sold him a horse. He was a dealer." "A dealer in forged notes," remarked one of the officials, with a faint smile. "Was he a forger, then?" asked Le Pontois in entire surprise. "Yes.
Enid uttered a cry of alarm, but the second man, who wore a hard felt hat and dark overcoat, reassured her by saying in French: "Pray do not distress yourself, mademoiselle. There is no cause for alarm. My friend and I merely wish to speak for a moment with Monsieur Le Pontois before he enters his house. For that reason we have presumed to stop your car."
But I tell you that the allegations you have just read are lies lies, every word of them." And Le Pontois' pale cheeks flushed crimson with anger. "Le Pontois," remarked a tall, thin, elderly commissaire who was present, "it is for you to prove your innocence. The information laid before us is derived from those who have daily watched your movements and reported them.
At present, in France, the delicate matter of titles seems to be better arranged, any gentleman, since the Revolution, being free to adopt any one he may fix upon; and it appears that the Crown no longer confers any patents of nobility, but contents itself with saying, as in the case of M. de Pontois, the other day, "Le Roi trouve convenable that you take the title of," &c.
Then they sat in silence in the darkness until the hurrying police agent returned, after which the car sped straight past the château on the high road which led through the deep valley on to the fortress town of Verdun. As they passed the château Paul Le Pontois caught a glimpse of its lighted windows and sat wondering what Blanche would imagine.
She risked everything her honour, her happiness, her future by associating with you for the one and sole purpose of assisting me to learn all the dastardly plot in progress." "It was you who supplied Paul Le Pontois with the false notes he passed in France!" declared Weirmarsh. "The French police know that; and if ever you or your step-daughter put foot in France you will be arrested."
Monsieur le Ministre does not afford me that privilege. I am but the servant of the Sûreté, and no one regrets more than myself the painful duty I have been compelled to perform to-night. I assure you, Monsieur Le Pontois, that I entertain much regret that I have been compelled to drag you away from your home and family thus, to Paris."
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