morning. And the waiter remembered that a man at the next table, who had entered the café at almost the same time as the inspector, had also asked for writing-paper and called twice for yellow envelopes.
"That's it," said Mazeroux to Don Luis. "As you suspected, one letter has been substituted for the other."
The description given by the waiter was pretty explicit: a tall man, with a slight stoop, wearing a reddish-brown beard cut into a point, a tortoise-shell eyeglass with a black silk ribbon, and an ebony walking-stick with a handle shaped like a swan's head.
"That's something for the police to go upon," said Mazeroux.
They were leaving the café when Don Luis stopped his companion.
"One moment."
"What's the matter?"
"We've been followed."
"Followed? What next? And by whom, pray?"
"No one that matters. I know who it is and I may as well settle his business and have done with it. Wait for me. I shall be back; and I'll show you some fun. You shall see one of the 'nuts,' I promise you."
He returned in a minute with a tall, thin man with his face set in whiskers. He introduced him:
"M. Mazeroux, a friend of mine, Señor Caceres, an attaché at the Peruvian Legation. Señor Caceres took part in the interview at the Prefect's just now. It was he who, on the Peruvian Minister's instructions, collected the documents bearing upon my identity." And he added gayly: "So you were looking for me, dear Señor Caceres. Indeed, I expected, when we left the police office"
