"
"I will not name the party. I will show you his picture, and you can
probably identify him yourself."
Our hero had secured the photograph of Alphonse Donetti. He handed it to
the representative in a careless manner, saying:
"That is a picture of the young man, and to him we are under great
obligations in this matter."
The instant the Italian saw and fixed his eyes on the picture he
recoiled like one gazing at a ghost. His eyes fairly bulged. He turned
pale, trembled like an aspen leaf, and attempted to speak, but his
tongue appeared to cleave to the roof of his mouth. He was unable to
speak. Oscar stood by, a look of delight and gratification expressed
upon his handsome face.
The detective waited. He desired to give the Italian time to recover his
composure, and finally, when the latter was able to speak, he asked in
gasping tones:
"Is the original of this picture alive?"
"He is."
"His name?"
"Alphonse Donetti."
"His parentage--do you know his parentage?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Answer my question.
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