H. Bedford-Jones

“ Franchipot opened his mouth and stared with fallen jaw at this man who had come from the dead. Bigarot emitted a dry laugh.
"So aristocrat! I struck down Dubois by a coup de savate; I shot him. Then I shot Hawkins and Farvel. One cannot take chances with both hands fastened together, you understand! So now I am here to pull you down, dog of an aristocrat!"
"You will make your verbal report to me, now," commanded Davignan.
He motioned the lieutenant, and the soldiers closed in about Franchipot and Paléologue. Franchipot was still paralyzed by the apparition of Bigarot. ”

“ Davignan pressed the arm of the prince. Sympathy and a hearty reassurance were in his cherubic features as he spoke.
"Mon ami, say no more! Me, I have imagination. I can understand. You acted well, nobly! Saperlipopette! The man suspects nothing?"
"Nothing," said Paléologue. "He does not dream that his connection with the robbery is known. Further, he is an American, and not the Englishman William Kent at all. I suspected this when we met him at Singapore—you remember?"
"Yes, that is true." Davignan nodded pompously, and motioned toward Franchipot. ”

“ To find the boat is a matter of elimination. It was clever to leave the craft there—therefore I guessed that it would be done."
Franchipot uttered a low groan. Paléologue shrugged again, and picked a cigaret from his case. Davignan made an imperative gesture to Bigarot, who came forward and began to make his verbal report.
Kent, still ignorant that he was at all involved, stood watching proceedings with a grim smile of satisfaction upon his lips.
Suddenly Bigarot turned his head and saw that Paléologue was smoking. A loud cry burst from his lips. He whirled and flung himself toward Paléologue. ”