“I think he is, sir.  I saw him come in not long ago.”

“Ask him to come up to this room.  Say I would like to speak to him.”  The attendant went out.

“I have sent for one of the best men on our force, Madam,” continued the commissioner, turning back to the pathetic little figure in the chair.  “We will go into this matter a little more in detail and see if it is possible for us to interfere with the work of the local, authorities in G—.”

The little old lady gave her eyes a last hasty dab with a dainty handkerchief and raised her head again, fighting for self-control.  She was a quaint little figure, with soft grey hair drawn back smoothly from a gentle-featured face in which each wrinkle seemed the seal of some loving thought for others.  Her bonnet and gown were of excellent material in delicate soft colours, but cut in the style of an earlier decade.  The capable lines of her thin little hands showed through the fabric of her grey gloves.  Her whole attitude bore the impress of one who had adventured far beyond the customary routine of her home circle, adventured out into the world in fear and trembling, impelled by the stress of a great love.

A knock was heard at the door, and a small, slight man, with a kind, smooth-shaven face, entered at the commissioner’s call.  “You sent for me, sir?” he asked.

“Yes, Muller, there is a matter here in which I need your advice, your assistance, perhaps.  This is Detective Muller, Miss—­” (the commissioner picked up the card on his desk) “Miss Graumann.  If you will tell us now, more in detail, all that you can tell us about this case, we may be able to help you.”

“Oh, if you would,” murmured Miss Graumann, with something more of hope in her voice.  The expression of sympathetic interest on the face of the newcomer had already won her confidence for him.  Her slight figure straightened up in the chair, and the two men sat down opposite her, prepared to listen to her story.

“I will tell you all I know and understand about this matter, gentlemen,” she began.  “My name is Babette Graumann, and I live with my nephew, Albert Graumann, engineering expert, in the village of Grunau, which is not far from the city of G—.  My nephew Albert, the dearest, truest—­” sobs threatened to overcome her again, but she mastered them bravely.  “Albert is now in prison, accused of the murder of his friend, John Siders, in the latter’s lodgings in G—.”

“Yes, that is the gist of what you have already told me,” said the commissioner.  “Muller, Miss Graumann believes her nephew innocent, contrary to the opinion of the local authorities in G—.  She has come to ask for some one from here who could ferret out the truth of this matter.  You are free now, and if we find that it can be done without offending the local authorities—­”

“Who is the commissioner in charge of the case in G—?” asked Muller.

“Commissioner Lange is his name, I believe,” replied Miss Graumann.