don't think I could have kept the brigands at bay much longer. A
sword-stick is no match for a pair of Corsican daggers. The next time I
take a walk I must have a revolver. Is that fellow dead, do you think? If
he is, I shall be still more in your debt."

I looked at the prostrate man's face, then at his head. "No," I said,
"there is no fracture. He is only stunned." My diagnosis was verified
almost as soon as it was spoken. The next moment the Italian opened his
eyes and sat up, and had I not threatened him with my blackthorn would
have sprung to his feet.

"You have to thank this gentleman for saving your life," said Mr.
Fortescue, in French.

"How?" asked the fellow in the same language.

"If you had killed me you would have been hanged. If I hand you over to
the police you will get twenty years at the hulks for attempted murder,
and unless you answer my questions truly I shall hand you over to the
police. You are a Griscelli."

"Yes, sir."

"Which of them?"

"I am Giuseppe, the son of Giuseppe."

"In that case you are _his_ grandson. How did you find me out?"

"You were at Paris last summer."