“Quite so, sir,” the man answered.  “I shall be pleased to tell you anything I can.”

“This gentleman of whom I am in search, then,” I answered, “he would have arrived probably last Wednesday evening from the Continent.  I do not know what name he would give, but it would probably not be the name of Delora.  He is rather tall, pale, thin, and of distinctly foreign appearance.  He has black eyes, black imperial, and looks like a South American, which, by the bye, I think he is.  Does that description help you to recognize him?”

“I think so, sir,” the man answered.  “Do you happen to know whether, by any chance, he would be a friend of the Chinese ambassador?”

“I should think it very likely,” I answered.  “He is staying here, then?”

“He was staying here until a few hours ago, sir,” the man answered.  “He came in about ten o’clock and went at once to his rooms, sent for his bill, and left the hotel in a great hurry.  I remember the circumstance particularly, because he had said nothing about his going, and from the manner of his return and his hasty departure it is quite clear that he had not expected to leave so soon himself.”

I was a little staggered.  It seemed hard luck to have so nearly succeeded in my search, only to have failed at the last moment.  It was maddening, too, to think that for all these hours I had been in the same hotel as the man whom I so greatly desired to find!

“Tell me, did he leave any address?” I asked.

“None whatever, sir,” the man answered.  “Our junior clerk here asked him where he would wish letters to be forwarded, and he replied that there would not be any.  I think he said that he was leaving for abroad almost at once, but would call before he sailed in case there were any letters or messages for him.”

“Tell me under what name he stayed here?” I asked.

“Mr. Vanderpoel,” the man told me.

“He was quite alone, I suppose?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” the man answered.  “He had a few callers at different times, but he spent most of his time in his rooms.  If you are particularly anxious to discover his whereabouts,” the clerk continued, “the night porter who would have started him off is still on duty.”

“I should like very much to speak to him,” I said.

The clerk touched a bell, and the porter came in from outside.

“You remember Mr. Vanderpoel leaving this evening?” the clerk asked.

“Certainly, sir,” the man answered.  “He went at about eleven o’clock.”

“Did he go in a cab?” the clerk asked.

“In a four-wheeler, sir,” the porter answered.

“Do you remember what address he gave?”

The porter looked dubious for a moment.

“I don’t absolutely remember, sir,” he said, “but I know that it was one of the big railway stations.”

The clerk turned to me.

“Is there anything else you would like to ask?” he inquired.