"
"The British Embassy, I suppose?" said Hyde, complacently.
"Yes; and his Imperial Majesty has deigned to go personally into your
case."
"Then I can wait events calmly and without fear."
Presently, when Hyde had been removed, Ledantec was introduced, and
was received with the brutal harshness which was the judge's habitual
manner towards prisoners.
"Your name, profession, address?" he asked abruptly.
"Silas Hobson, an English journalist, residing in Duke Street, St.
James's, London."
"It is false! You have no right to the name of Hobson. You are not an
Englishman. You may reside in London, but it is only temporarily."
"Who am I then?" asked Ledantec with a sneer.
"In Paris, at your last visit, you passed as Hippolyte Ledantec, but
your real name is Serge Michaelovitch Vasilenikoff. You are a Russian
by birth, by profession a gambler, a blackleg, a cheat."
Ledantec, as I shall still call him, merely shrugged his shoulders in
sarcastic helplessness at this abuse.
"You are worse. You are a spy in the service of the enemies of the
State; an unconvicted murderer--"
He bent his eyes upon the prisoner with a piercing gaze, to watch the
effect of this accusation.
Ledantec never blenched, and the judge presently continued--
"You are the real author of the crime in Tinplate Street.
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