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 inMadrid--the fine square which, like the similarly-named gates at Toledoand Segovia, commands a view of the rising sun, as does the ancientTemple of Abu Simbel on the Nile.
Hugh Henfrey--a smart, lithe figure in blue serge--had been lounging forten minutes before the long facade of the Ministerio de la Gobernacion(or Ministry of the Interior) smoking a cigarette and looking eagerlyacross 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 hadpassed him by as a harmless lounger.
Five minutes later a smartly-dressed girl, with short skirt, silkstockings, and a pretty hat, came along the pavement, and Hugh sprangforward to greet her.
It was Lisette, the girl whom he had met when in hiding in that backstreet 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 conspiracyor of what was taking place. "Since I saw you last, mademoiselle, I havebeen moving about rapidly, and always in danger of arrest."
"So have I. But I am here at The Sparrow's orders--on a little businesswhich I hope to bring off successfully on any evening. I have an Englishfriend with me--a Mr. Franklyn."
"I left London suddenly. I saw The Sparrow in the evening, and nextmorning, at eleven o'clock, without even a bag, I left London for Madridwith a very useful passport."
"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 suggestedthat I should come here," Hugh explained. "Ever since we met in ItalyI have been in close hiding until, by some means, my whereabouts becameknown, and I had to fly."
The smartly-dressed girl walked slowly at his side and, for somemoments, remained silent.
"Ah! So you have met Hamilton Shaw--alias Howell?" she remarked at lastin 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 ifHowell had revealed your secret?"
"Howell!" gasped Hugh. "Yes, I certainly would. He is a close friend ofThe Sparrow!"
"That may be. But that does not prove that he is any friend of yours. Ifyou came here at Howell's suggestion--then, Mr. Henfrey, I should adviseyou to leave Madrid at once. I say this because I have a suspicion thathe 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 thatHamilton Shaw sent you here, I can, I think, discern his motive. Imyself will see Mr. Franklyn at once, and shall leave Madrid as soon aspossible. And I advise you, Mr. Henfrey, to do the same."
"Surely you don't suspect that it was this Mr. Howell who gave me awayto Scotland Yard!" exclaimed Hugh, surprised, but at the same timerecollecting that The Sparrow had been alarmed at the detective's visitto Dorise. He knew that Benton and Mrs. Bond had suddenly disappearedfrom Shapley, but the reason he could only guess. He had, of course,no proof that Benton and Molly were members of the great criminalorganization. He only knew that Benton had been his late father'sclosest friend.
He discussed the situation with the girl jewel-thief as they walkedalong the busy Carrera de San Jeronimo wherein are the best shops inMadrid, to the great Plaza de Canovas in the leafy Prado.
Again he tried to extract from her what she knew concerning his father'sdeath. But she would tell him nothing.
"I am not permitted to say anything, Mr. Henfrey. I can only regret it,"she said quietly. "Mr. Franklyn is at the Ritz opposite. I should likeyou to meet him."
And she took him across to the elegant hotel opposite the Neptunefountain, where, in a private sitting-room on the second floor, sheintroduced him to a rather elderly, aristocratic-looking Englishman,whom none would take to be one of the most expert jewel-thieves inEurope.
When the door was closed and they were alone, mademoiselle suddenlyrevealed to her friend what Hugh had said concerning Howell's suggestionthat he should travel to Madrid.
Franklyn's face changed. He was instantly apprehensive.
"Then we certainly are not safe here any longer. Howell probably intendsto play us false! We shall know from The Sparrow the reason we arehere, and, for aught we know, the police are watching and will arrestus red-handed. No," he added, "we must leave this place--all threeof us--as soon as possible. You, Lisette, had better go to Paris andexplain matters to The Sparrow, while I shall fade away to Switzerland.And you, Mr. Henfrey? Where will you go?"
"To France," was Hugh's reply, on the spur of the moment. "I can get toMarseilles."
"Yes. Go by way of Barcelona. It is quickest," said the Englishman. "Theexpress leaves just after three o'clock."
Then, after he had thanked Hugh for his timely warning, the latterwalked out more than ever mystified at the attitude of The Sparrow'saccomplices.
It did not seem possible that Howell should have told Scotland Yardthat he was hiding at Shapley; yet it was quite evident that bothmademoiselle and her companion were equally in fear of the man Howell,whose real name was Hamilton Shaw. The theory seemed to him a thin one,for Howell was The Sparrow's intimate friend.
Yet, mademoiselle, while they had been discussing the situation, haddenounced him as their enemy, declaring that The Sparrow himself shouldbe warned of him.
That afternoon Hugh, having only been in Madrid twelve hours, left againon the long, dusty railway journey across Spain to Zaragoza and downthe valley of the Ebro to the Mediterranean. After crossing the Frenchfrontier, he broke the journey at the old-world town of Nimes for acouple of days, and then went on to Marseilles, where he took up hisquarters in the big Louvre et Paix Hotel, still utterly mystified, andstill not daring to write to Dorise.
It was as well that he left Madrid, for, just as Lisette and Franklynhad suspected, the police called at his hotel--an obscure one near thestation--only two hours after his departure. Then, finding him gone,they sought both mademoiselle and Franklyn, only to find that they alsohad fled.
_Someone had given away their secret!_
On arrival at Marseilles in the evening Hugh ate his dinner alone in thehotel, and then strolled up the well-lit Cannebiere, with its many smartshops and gay cafes--that street which, to many thousands on their wayto the Near or Far East, is their last glimpse of European life. He wasentirely at a loose end.
Unnoticed behind him there walked an undersized little Frenchman,an alert, business-like man of about forty-five, who had awaited himoutside his hotel, and who leisurely followed him up the broad, mainstreet of that busy city.
He was well-dressed, possessing a pair of shrewd, searching eyes, anda moustache carefully trimmed. His appearance was that of a prosperousFrench tradesman--one of thousands one meets in the city of Marseilles.
As Hugh idled along, gazing into some of the shop windows as he lazilysmoked his cigarette, the under-sized stranger kept very careful watchupon his movements. He evidently intended that he should not escapeobservation. Hugh paused at a tobacconist's and bought some stamps, butas he came out of the shop, the watcher drew back suddenly and in such amanner as to reveal to anyone who might have observed him that he was notyro in the art of surveillance.
Walking a little farther along, Hugh came to the corner of the broadRue de Rome, where he entered a crowded cafe in which an orchestra wasplaying.
He had taken a corner seat in the window, had ordered his coffee,and was glancing at the _Petit Parisien_, which he had taken from hispocket, when another man entere
d, gazed around in search of a seat and,noticing one at Hugh's table, crossed, lifted his hat, and took thevacant chair.
He was the stranger who had followed him from the Louvre et Paix.
The young Englishman, all unsuspecting, glanced at the newcomer, andthen resumed his paper, while the keen-eyed little man took a long, thincigar which the waiter brought, lit it carefully, and sipped his coffee,his interest apparently centred in the music.
Suddenly a tall, dark-haired woman, who had been sitting near by with aman who seemed to be her husband, rose and left. A moment before she hadexchanged glances with the watcher, who, apparently at her bidding, roseand followed her.
All this seemed quite unnoticed by Hugh, immersed as he was in hisnewspaper.
Outside the man and woman met. They held hurried consultation. The womantold him something which evidently caused him sudden surprise.
"I will call on you at eleven to-morrow morning, madame," he said.
"No. I will meet you at the Reserve. I will lunch there at twelve. Youwill lunch with me?"
"Very well," he answered. "_Au revoir_," and he returned to his seat inthe cafe, while she disappeared without returning to her companion.
The mysterious watcher resumed his coffee, for he had only been absentfor a few moments, and the waiter had not cleared it away.
Hugh took out his cigarette-case and, suddenly finding himself withouta match, made the opportunity for which the mysterious stranger had beenwaiting.
He struck one and handed it to his _vis-a-vis_, bowing with his foreigngrace.
Then they naturally dropped into conversation.
"Ah! m'sieur is English!" exclaimed the shrewd-eyed little man. "Here,in Marseilles, we have many English who pass to and fro from the boats.I suppose, m'sieur is going East?" he suggested affably.
"No," replied Hugh, speaking in French, "I have some business here--thatis all." He was highly suspicious of all strangers, and the more so ofanyone who endeavoured to get into conversation with him.
"You know Marseilles--of course?" asked the stranger, sharplyscrutinizing him.
"I have been here several times before. I find the city always gay andbright."
"Not so bright as before the war," declared the little man, smoking athis ease. "There have been many changes lately."
Hugh Henfrey could not make the fellow out. Yet many times before he hadbeen addressed by strangers who seemed to question him out of curiosity,and for no apparent reason. This man was one of them, no doubt.
The man, who had accompanied the woman whom the stranger had followedout, rose, exchanged a significant glance with the little man, andwalked out. That the three were in accord seemed quite apparent, thoughHugh was still unsuspicious.
He chatted merrily with the stranger for nearly half an hour, and thenrose and left the cafe. When quite close to the hotel the strangerovertook him, and halting, asked in a low voice, in very good English:
"I believe you are Mr. Henfrey--are you not?"
"Why do you ask that?" inquired Hugh, much surprised. "My name isJordan--William Jordan."
"Yes," laughed the man. "That is, I know, the name you have given at thehotel. But your real name is Henfrey."
Hugh started. The stranger, noticing his alarm, hastened to reassurehim.