"I question whether he does know. But if he does he would say nothing."

"Ah!" sighed Hugh. "Yours is indeed a queer world, mademoiselle. And not without interest."

"It is full of adventure and excitement, of ups and downs, of constant travel and change, and of eternal apprehension of arrest," replied the girl, with a laugh.

"I wish you would tell me something about Yvonne Ferad," he repeated.

"Alas! m'sieur, I am not permitted," was her obdurate reply. "I am truly sorry to hear of the dastardly attack upon her. She once did me a very kind and friendly action at a moment when I was in sore need of a friend."

"Who could have fired the shot, do you think?" Henfrey asked. "You know her friends. Perhaps you know her enemies?"

Mademoiselle Lisette was silent for some moments.

"Yes," she replied reflectively. "She has enemies, I know. But who has not?"

"Is there any person who, to your knowledge, would have any motive to kill her?"

Again she was silent.

"There are several people who hate her. One of them might have done it out of revenge. You say you saw n.o.body?"

"n.o.body."

"Why did you go and see her at that hour?" asked the girl.

"Because I wanted her to tell me something--something of greatest importance to me."

"And she refused, of course? She keeps her own secrets."

"No. On the other hand, she was about to disclose to me the information I sought when someone fired through the open window."

"The shot might have been intended for you--eh?"

Hugh paused.

"It certainly might," he admitted. "But with what motive?"

"To prevent you from learning the truth."

"She was on the point of telling me what I wanted to know."

"Exactly. And what more likely than someone outside, realizing that Mademoiselle was about to make a disclosure, fired at you."

"But you said that Mademoiselle had enemies."

"So she has. But I think my theory is the correct one," replied the girl. "What was it that you asked her to reveal to you?"

"Well," he replied, after a brief hesitation, "my father died mysteriously in London some time ago, and I have reason to believe that she knows the truth concerning the sad affair."

"Where did it happen?"

"My father was found in the early morning lying in a doorway in Albemarle Street, close to Piccadilly. The only wound found was a slight scratch in the palm of the hand. The police constable at first thought he was intoxicated, but the doctor, on being called, declared that my father was suffering from poison. He was at once taken to St. George's Hospital, but an hour later he died without recovering consciousness."

"And what was your father's name?" asked Lisette in a strangely altered voice.

"Henfrey."

"Henfrey!" gasped the girl, starting up at mention of the name.

"_Henfrey_! And--and are--you--_his son_?"

"Yes," replied Hugh. "Why? You know about the affair, mademoiselle! Tell me all you know," he cried. "I--the son of the dead man--have a right to demand the truth."

"Henfrey!" repeated the girl hoa.r.s.ely in a state of intense agitation.

"Monsieur Henfrey! And--and to think that I am here--with you--_his son_! Ah! forgive me!" she gasped. "I--I----Let us return."

"But you shall tell me the truth!" cried Hugh excitedly. "You know it!

You cannot deny that you know it!"

All, however, he could get from her were the words:

"You--Monsieur Henfrey's son! _Surely Il Pa.s.sero does not know this_!"

ELEVENTH CHAPTER

MORE ABOUT THE SPARROW

A month of weary anxiety and nervous tension had gone by.

Yvonne Ferad had slowly struggled back to health, but the injury to the brain had, alas! seriously upset the balance of her mind. Three of the greatest French specialists upon mental diseases had seen her and expressed little hope of her ever regaining her reason.

It was a sad affair which the police of Monaco had, by dint of much bribery and the telling of many untruths, successfully kept out of the newspapers.

The evening after Hugh's disappearance, Monsieur Ogier had called upon Dorise Rans...o...b..-her mother happily being away at the Rooms at the time.

In one of the sitting-rooms of the hotel the official of police closely questioned the girl, but she, of course made pretense of complete ignorance. Naturally Ogier was annoyed at being unable to obtain the slightest information, and after being very rude, he told the girl the charge against her lover and then left the hotel in undisguised anger.

Lady Rans...o...b..was very much mystified at Hugh's disappearance, though secretly she was very glad. She questioned Brock, but he, on his part, expressed himself very much puzzled. A week later, however, Walter returned to London, and on the following night Lady Rans...o...b..and her daughter took the train-de-luxe for Boulogne, and duly arrived home.

As day followed day, Dorise grew more mystified and still more anxious concerning Hugh. What was the truth? She had written to Brussels three times, but her letters had elicited no response. He might be already under arrest, for aught she knew. Besides, she could not rid herself of the recollection of the white cavalier, that mysterious masker who had told her of her lover's escape.

In this state of keen anxiety and overstrung nerves she was compelled to meet almost daily, and be civil to, her mother's friend, the odious George Sherrard.

Lady Rans...o...b..was for ever singing the man's praises, and never weary of expressing her surprise at Hugh's unforgivable behaviour.

"He simply disappeared, and n.o.body has heard a word of him since!" she remarked one day as they sat at breakfast. "I'm quite certain he's done something wrong. I've never liked him, Dorise."