Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo

  TWENTY-SIXTH CHAPTER

  LISETTE'S DISCLOSURES

  At ten o'clock on the morning that Hugh Henfrey left Avignon for Paris,The Sparrow stood at the window of his cozy little flat in the Rue desPetits Champs, where he was known to his elderly housekeeper--a worthyold soul from Yvetot, in the north--as Guillaume Gautier.

  The house was one of those great old ones built in the days of the FirstEmpire, with a narrow entrance and square courtyard into which thestage coaches with postilions rumbled before the days of the P.L.M. andaircraft. In the Napoleonic days it had been the residence of the Dukesde Vizelle, but in modern times it had been converted into a series ofvery commodious flats.

  The Sparrow, sprightly and alert, stood, after taking his _cafe aulait_, looking down into the courtyard. He had been reading throughseveral letters and telegrams which had caused him some perturbation.

  "They are playing me false!" he muttered, as he gazed out of the window."I'm certain of it--quite certain! But, Gad! If they do I'll be evenwith them! Who could have given Henfrey away in London--_and why_?"

  He paced the length of the room, his teeth hard set and his handsclenched.

  "I thought they were all loyal after what I have done for them--afterthe fortunes I have put into their pockets. Fancy! One of them awell-known member of Parliament--another a director of one of thesoundest insurance companies! Nobody suspects the really great crooks.It is only the little clumsy muddlers whom the police catch and thejudge makes examples of!"

  Then crossing back to the window, he said aloud:

  "Lisette ought to be here! She was due in from Toulouse at nine o'clock.I hope nothing further has happened. One thing is satisfactory--youngHenfrey is safe."

  As a matter of fact, the girl had spoken to The Sparrow from her hotelin Toulouse late on the previous night, and told him that her "friendHugh" was in Marseilles.

  Even to the master criminal the whole problem was increasinglycomplicated. He could not prove the innocence of young Henfrey, becauseof the mysterious, sinister influence being brought to bear against him.He had interested himself in aiding the young fellow to evade arrest,because he had no desire that there should be a trial in which he andhis associates might be implicated.

  The Sparrow hated trials of any sort. With him silence was golden, andvery wisely he would pay any sum rather than court publicity.

  Half an hour went past, but the girl he expected did not put in anappearance.

  Monsieur Gautier--the man with the gloved hand--was believed by hisold housekeeper to be a rich and somewhat eccentric bachelor, whowas interested in old clocks and antique silver, and who travelledextensively in order to purchase fine specimens. Indeed it was by thatdescription he was registered in the archives of the Surete, with theobservation that notwithstanding his foreign name he was an Englishmanof highest standing.

  It was never dreamed that the bristly-haired alert little man, who wasso often seen in the salerooms of Paris when antique silver was beingsold, was the notorious Sparrow.

  Lisette's failure to arrive considerably disturbed him. He hoped thatnothing had happened to her. Time after time, he walked to the windowand looked out eagerly for her to cross the courtyard. In those roomshe sometimes lived for weeks in safe obscurity, his neighbours regardinghim as a man of the greatest integrity, though a trifle eccentric in hishabits.

  At last, just before eleven, he saw Lisette's smart figure in a heavytravelling coat crossing the courtyard, and a few moments later she wasshown into his room.

  "You're late!" the old man said, as soon as the door was closed. "Ifeared that something had gone wrong! Why did you leave Madrid? What hashappened?" he asked eagerly.

  "Happened!" she echoed in French. "Why, very nearly a disaster! Someonehas given us away--at least, Monsieur Henfrey was given away to thepolice!"

  "Not arrested?" he asked breathlessly.

  "No. We all three managed to get away--but only just in time! I had awire to-night from Monsieur Tresham, telling me guardedly that withinan hour or so after we left Madrid the police called at my hotel--and atHenfrey's."

  "Who can have done that?" asked The Sparrow, his eyes narrowing inanger, his gloved hand clenched.

  "Your enemy--and mine!" was the girl's reply. "Franklyn is inSwitzerland. Monsieur Henfrey is in Marseilles--at the Louvre etPaix--and I am here."

  "Then we have a secret enemy--eh?"

  "Yes--and he is not very far to seek. Monsieur Howell has done this!"

  "Howell! He would never do such a thing, my dear mademoiselle," repliedthe gloved man, smiling.

  "Oh! wouldn't he? I would not trust either Benton or Howell!"

  "I think you are mistaken, mademoiselle. They have never shown muchfriendship towards each other."

  "They are close friends as far as concerns the Henfrey affair," declaredmademoiselle. "I happen to know that it was Howell who prepared the oldman's will. It is in his handwriting, and his manservant, Cooke, is oneof the witnesses."

  "What? _You know about that will, Lisette?_ Tell me everything."

  "Howell himself let it out to me. They were careful that you shouldnot know. At the time I was in London with Franklyn and Benton overthe jewels of that ship-owner's wife, I forget her name--the affair inCarlton House Terrace."

  "Yes. I recollect. A very neat piece of business."

  "Well--Howell told me how he had prepared the will, and how Benton, whowas staying with old Mr. Henfrey away in the country, got him to put hissignature to it by pretending it to be for the purchase of a houseat Eltham, in Kent. The house was, indeed, purchased at Benton'ssuggestion, but the signature was to a will which Howell's man, Cooke,and a friend of his, named Saunders, afterwards witnessed, and which hasnow been proved--the will by which the young man is compelled to marryBenton's adopted daughter before he inherits his father's estates."

  "You actually know this?"

  "Howell told me so with his own lips."

  "Then why is young Henfrey being made the victim?" asked The Sparrowshrewdly. "Why, indeed, have you not revealed this to me before?"

  "Because I had no proof before that Howell is _our_ enemy. He has nowgiven us away. He has some motive. What is it?"

  The bristly-haired little man of twenty names and as manyindividualities pondered for a moment. It was evident that he was bothapprehensive and amazed at the suggestion the pretty young French girlhad placed before him.

  When one finds a betrayer, then in order to fix his guilt it becomesnecessary to discover the motive.

  The Sparrow was in a quandary. Seldom was he in such a perturbed stateof mind. He and his accomplices could always defy the police. It was notthe first time in his career, however, that he had found a traitor inhis camp. If Howell was really a traitor, then he would pay dearly forit. Three times within the last ten years there had been traitors in thegreat criminal organization. One was a Dutchman; the second was a Greek;and the third a Swiss. Each died--for dead men tell no tales.

  The Sparrow ordered some _cafe noir_ from his housekeeper and produceda particularly seductive brand of liqueur, which mademoiselletook--together with a cigarette.

  Then she left, he giving her the parting injunction:

  "It is probable that you will go to Marseilles and meet young Henfrey. Iwill think it all over. You will have a note from me at the Grand Hotelbefore noon to-morrow."