"It was found where she had left it. In it were three thousand eight hundred francs, all in notes."

"Yet Franklyn told me that he had heard how Yvonne won quite a large sum that night."

"She might have done so--and have lost the greater part of it," The Sparrow replied.

"On the other hand, what more feasible than that the old manservant, watching her place it there, abstracted the bulk of the money--a large sum, no doubt--and afterwards, in order to conceal his crime, shot his mistress in such circ.u.mstances as to place the onus of the crime upon her midnight visitor?"

"That the affair was very cleverly planned there is no doubt," said The Sparrow. "There is a distinct intention to fasten the guilt upon young Henfrey, because he alone would have a motive for revenge for the death of his father. Of that fact the man or woman who fired the shot was most certainly aware. How could Cataldi have known of it?"

"I certainly believe the Italian robbed his mistress and afterwards attempted to murder her," Howell insisted.

"He might rob his mistress, certainly. He might even have robbed her of considerable sums systematically," The Sparrow a.s.sented. "The maids told the police that Mademoiselle's habit was to leave her bag with her winnings upon the dressing-table while she went downstairs and took a gla.s.s of wine."

"Exactly. She did so every evening. Her habits were regular. Yet she never knew the extent of her winnings at the tables before she counted them. And she never did so until the following morning. That is what Franklyn told me in Venice when we met a month afterwards."

"He learnt that from me," The Sparrow said with a smile. "No," he went on; "though old Cataldi could well have robbed his mistress, just as the maids could have done, and Yvonne would have been none the wiser, yet I do not think he would attempt to conceal his crime by shooting her, because by so doing he cut off all future supplies. If he were a thief he would not be such a fool. Therefore you may rest a.s.sured, Howell, that the hand that fired the shot was that of some person who desired to close Yvonne's mouth."

"She might have held some secret concerning old Cataldi. Or, on his part, he might have cherished some grievance against her. Italians are usually very vindictive," replied the visitor. "On the other hand, it would be to Benton's advantage that the truth concerning old Henfrey's death was suppressed. Yvonne was about to tell the young man something--perhaps confess the truth, who knows?--when the shot was fired."

"Well, my dear Howell, you have your opinion and I have mine," laughed The Sparrow. "The latter I shall keep to myself--until my theory is disproved."

Thereupon Howell took a cigar that his host offered him, and while he slowly lit it, The Sparrow crossed to the telephone.

He quickly found Lady Rans...o...b..s number in the directory, and a few moments later was talking to the butler, of whom he inquired for Miss Dorise.

"Tell her," he added, "that a friend of Mr. Henfrey's wishes to speak to her."

In a few moments The Sparrow heard the girl's voice.

"Yes?" she inquired. "Who is speaking?"

"A friend of Mr. Henfrey," was the reply of the man with the gloved hand. "You will probably guess who it is."

He heard a little nervous laugh, and then:

"Oh, yes. I--I have an idea, but I can't talk to you over the 'phone.

I've got somebody who's just called. Mother is out--and----" Then she lowered her voice, evidently not desirous of being heard in the adjoining room. "Well, I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean? Does it concern Mr. Henfrey?"

"Yes. It does. There's a man here to see me from Scotland Yard! What shall I do?"

The Sparrow gasped at the girl's announcement.

Next second he recovered himself.

"A man from Scotland Yard!" he echoed. "Why has he called?"

"He knows that Mr. Henfrey is living at Shapley, in Surrey. And he has been asking whether I am acquainted with you."

TWENTY-THIRD CHAPTER

WHAT LISETTE KNEW

A fortnight had gone by.

Ten o'clock in the morning in the Puerta del Sol, that great plaza in Madrid--the fine square which, like the similarly-named gates at Toledo and Segovia, commands a view of the rising sun, as does the ancient Temple of Abu Simbel on the Nile.

Hugh Henfrey--a smart, lithe figure in blue serge--had been lounging for ten minutes before the long facade of the Ministerio de la Gobernacion (or Ministry of the Interior) smoking a cigarette and looking eagerly across the great square. The two soldiers on sentry at the door, suspicious of all foreigners in the days of Bolshevism and revolution, had eyed him narrowly. But he appeared to be inoffensive, so they had pa.s.sed him by as a harmless lounger.

Five minutes later a smartly-dressed girl, with short skirt, silk stockings, and a pretty hat, came along the pavement, and Hugh sprang forward to greet her.

It was Lisette, the girl whom he had met when in hiding in that back street in Genoa.

"Well?" he exclaimed. "So here we are! The Sparrow sent me to you."

"Yes. I had a telegram from him four days ago ordering me to meet you.

Strange things are happening--it seems!"

"How?" asked the young Englishman, in ignorance of the great conspiracy or of what was taking place. "Since I saw you last, mademoiselle, I have been moving about rapidly, and always in danger of arrest."

"So have I. But I am here at The Sparrow's orders--on a little business which I hope to bring off successfully on any evening. I have an English friend with me--a Mr. Franklyn."

"I left London suddenly. I saw The Sparrow in the evening, and next morning, at eleven o'clock, without even a bag, I left London for Madrid with a very useful pa.s.sport."

"You are here because Madrid is safer for you than London, I suppose?"

said the girl in broken English.

"That is so. A certain Mr. Howell, a friend of The Sparrow's suggested that I should come here," Hugh explained. "Ever since we met in Italy I have been in close hiding until, by some means, my whereabouts became known, and I had to fly."

The smartly-dressed girl walked slowly at his side and, for some moments, remained silent.

"Ah! So you have met Hamilton Shaw--alias Howell?" she remarked at last in a changed voice. "He certainly is not your friend."

"Not my friend! Why? I've only met him lately."

"You say that the police knew of your hiding-place," said mademoiselle, speaking in French, as it was easier for her. "Would you be surprised if Howell had revealed your secret?"

"Howell!" gasped Hugh. "Yes, I certainly would. He is a close friend of The Sparrow!"

"That may be. But that does not prove that he is any friend of yours. If you came here at Howell's suggestion--then, Mr. Henfrey, I should advise you to leave Madrid at once. I say this because I have a suspicion that he intends both of us to fall into a trap!"

"But why? I don't understand."

"I can give you no explanation," said the girl. "Now I know that Hamilton Shaw sent you here, I can, I think, discern his motive. I myself will see Mr. Franklyn at once, and shall leave Madrid as soon as possible. And I advise you, Mr. Henfrey, to do the same."