The gentleman with the black pearl interrupted with so pronounced an exclamation of excitement and delight that the American stammered and ceased speaking.

“Do you hear, Sir Andrew?” cried the member of Parliament, jubilantly.  “An American diplomat halted by our police because he is the only witness of a most remarkable crime—­the most remarkable crime, I believe you said, sir,” he added, bending eagerly toward the naval officer, “which has occurred in London in many years.”

The American moved his head in assent, and glanced at the two other members.  They were looking, doubtfully, at him, and the face of each showed that he was greatly perplexed.

Sir Andrew advanced to within the light of the candles and drew a chair toward him.

“The crime must be exceptional, indeed,” he said, “to justify the police in interfering with a representative of a friendly power.  If I were not forced to leave at once, I should take the liberty of asking you to tell us the details.”

The gentleman with the pearl pushed the chair toward Sir Andrew, and motioned him to be seated.

“You cannot leave us now,” he exclaimed.  “Mr. Sears is just about to tell us of this remarkable crime.”

He nodded, vigorously, at the naval officer and the American, after first glancing, doubtfully, toward the servants at the far end of the room, and leaned forward across the table.  The others drew their chairs nearer and bent toward him.  The baronet glanced, irresolutely, at his watch, and, with an exclamation of annoyance, snapped down the lid.  “They can wait,” he muttered.  He seated himself quickly, and nodded at Lieutenant Sears.

“If you will be so kind as to begin, sir,” he said, impatiently.

“Of course,” said the American, “you understand that I understand that I am speaking to gentlemen.  The confidences of this Club are inviolate.  Until the police give the facts to the public press, I must consider you my confederates.  You have heard nothing, you know no one connected with this mystery.  Even I must remain anonymous.”

The gentlemen seated around him nodded gravely.

“Of course,” the baronet assented, with eagerness, “of course.”

“We will refer to it,” said the gentleman with the black pearl, “as ‘The Story of the Naval Attache.’”

“I arrived in London two days ago,” said the American, “and I engaged a room at the Bath Hotel.  I know very few people in London, and even the members of our embassy were strangers to me.  But in Hong Kong I had become great pals with an officer in your navy, who has since retired, and who is now living in a small house in Rutland Gardens, opposite the Knightsbridge Barracks.  I telegraphed him that I was in London, and yesterday morning I received a most hearty invitation to dine with him the same evening at his house.  He is a bachelor, so we dined alone and talked over all our old days on the Asiatic Station and of the changes which had come to us since we had last met there.  As I was leaving the next morning for my post at Petersburg, and had many letters to write, I told him, about ten o’clock, that I must get back to the hotel, and he sent out his servant to call a hansom.