He was
innocent of the misdemeanour, the proof of which I sought, but was
guilty of another most serious offence, yet he and his confederates
escaped scot-free in circumstances which I now purpose to relate.
You may remember that in Rudyard Kipling's story, _Bedalia
Herodsfoot_, the unfortunate woman's husband ran the risk of being
arrested as a simple drunkard, at a moment when the blood of murder
was upon his boots. The case of Ralph Summertrees was rather the
reverse of this. The English authorities were trying to fasten upon
him a crime almost as important as murder, while I was collecting
evidence which proved him guilty of an action much more momentous than
that of drunkenness.
The English authorities have always been good enough, when they
recognise my existence at all, to look down upon me with amused
condescension. If today you ask Spenser Hale, of Scotland Yard, what
he thinks of Eugene Valmont, that complacent man will put on the
superior smile which so well becomes him, and if you are a very
intimate friend of his, he may draw down the lid of his right eye, as
he replies,--
'Oh, yes, a very decent fellow, Valmont, but he's a Frenchman,' as if,
that said, there was no need of further inquiry.
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