Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"You don't like him, mother, because he hasn't money," remarked the girl bitterly. "If he were rich and entertained you, you would call him a delightful man!"
"Dorise! What are you saying? What's the good of life without money?"
queried the widow of the great contractor.
"Everyone can't be rich," the girl averred simply. "I think it's positively hateful to judge people by their pockets."
"Well, has Hugh written to you?" snapped her mother.
Dorise replied in the negative, stifling a sigh.
"And he isn't likely to. He's probably hiding somewhere. I wonder what he's done?"
"Nothing. I'm sure of that!"
"Well, I'm not so sure," was her mother's response. "I was chatting about it to Mr. Sherrard last night, and he's promised to make inquiry."
"Let Mr. Sherrard inquire as much as he likes," cried the girl angrily.
"He'll find nothing against Hugh, except that he's poor."
"H'm! And he's been far too much in your company of late, Dorise. People were beginning to talk at Monte Carlo."
"Oh! Let them talk, mother! I don't care a sc.r.a.p. I'm my own mistress!"
"Yes, but I tell you frankly that I'm very glad that we've seen the last of the fellow."
"Mother! You are really horrid!" cried the girl, rising abruptly and leaving the table. When out of the room she burst into tears.
Poor girl, her heart was indeed full.
Now it happened that early on that same morning Hugh Henfrey stepped from a train which had brought him from Aix-la-Chapelle to the Gare du Nord, in Brussels. He had spent three weeks with the Raveccas, in Genoa, whence he had travelled to Milan and Bale, and on into Belgium by way of Germany.
From Lisette he had failed to elicit any further facts concerning his father's death, though it was apparent that she knew something about it--something she dared not tell.
On the day following their midnight stroll, he had done all in his power to induce her to reveal something at least of the affair, but, alas! to no avail. Then, two days later, she had suddenly left--at orders of The Sparrow, she said.
Before Hugh left Ravecca had given him eighty pounds in English notes, saying that he acted at Il Pa.s.sero's orders, for Hugh would no doubt need the money, and it would be most dangerous for him to write to his bankers.
At first Henfrey protested, but, as his funds were nearly exhausted, he had accepted the money.
As he left the station in Brussels on that bright spring morning and crossed the busy Place, he was wondering to what hotel he should go. He had left his scanty luggage in the _consigne_, intending to go out on foot and search for some cheap and obscure hotel, there being many such in the vicinity of the station. After half an hour he chose a small and apparently clean little place in a narrow street off the Place de Brouckere, and there, later on, he carried his handbag. Then, after a wash, he set out for the Central Post Office in the Place de la Monnaie.
He had not gone far along the busy boulevard when he was startled to hear his name uttered from behind, and, turning, encountered a short, thick-set little man wearing a brown overcoat.
The man, noticing the effect his words had upon him, smiled rea.s.suringly, and said in broken English: "It is all right! I am not a police officer, Monsieur Henfrey. Cross the road and walk down that street yonder. I will follow in a few moments."
And then the man walked on, leaving Hugh alone.
Much surprised, Hugh did as he was bid, and a few minutes later the Belgian met him again.
"It is very dangerous for us to be seen together," he said quickly, scarcely pausing as he walked. "Do not go near the Post Office, but go straight to 14 Rue Beyaert, first floor. I shall be there awaiting you.
I have a message for you from a friend. You will find the street close to the Porte de Hal."
And the man continued on his way, leaving Hugh in wonder. He had been on the point of turning from the boulevard into the Place de la Monnaie to obtain Dorise's long looked for letter. Indeed, he had been hastening his footsteps full of keen apprehension when the stranger had accosted him.
But in accordance with the man's suggestion, he turned back towards the station, where he entered a taxi and drove across the city to the corner of Rue Beyaert, a highly respectable thoroughfare. He experienced no difficulty in finding the house indicated, and on ascending the stairs, found the stranger awaiting him.
"Ah!" he cried. "Come in! I am glad that I discovered you! I have been awaiting your arrival from Italy for the past fortnight. It is indeed fortunate that I found you in time to warn you not to go to the Poste Restante." He spoke in French, and had shown his visitor into a small but well furnished room.
"Why?" asked Hugh. "Is there danger in that quarter?"
"Yes, Monsieur Henfrey. The French police have, by some unknown means, discovered that you were coming here, and a strict watch is being kept for anyone calling for letters addressed to G.o.dfrey Brown."
"But how could they know?" asked Hugh.
"Ah! That is the mystery! Perhaps your lady friend has been indiscreet.
She was told in strict confidence, and was warned that your safety was in her hands."
"Surely, Dorise would be most careful not to betray me!" cried the young Englishman.
"Well, somebody undoubtedly has."
"I presume you are one of Il Pa.s.sero's friends?" Hugh said with a smile.
"Yes. Hence I am your friend," was the reply.
"Have you heard of late how Mademoiselle Yvonne is progressing?"
The man, who told his visitor his name was Jules Vervoort, shook his head.
"She is no better. I heard last week that the doctors have said that she will never recover her mental balance."
"What! Is she demented?"
"Yes. The report I had was that she recognized n.o.body, except at intervals she knows her Italian manservant and calls him by name. I was ordered to tell you this."
"Ordered by Il Pa.s.sero--eh?"
The man Vervoort nodded in the affirmative. Then he went on to warn his visitor that the Brussels police were on the eager watch for his arrival. "It is fortunate that you were not recognized when you came this morning," he said. "I had secret warning and was at the station, but I dared not approach you. You pa.s.sed under the very nose of two detectives, but luckily for you, their attention had been diverted to a woman who is a well-known pickpocket. I followed you to your hotel and then waited for you to go to the Poste Restante."
"But I want my letters," said Hugh.
"Naturally, but it is far too dangerous to go near there. You, of course, want news of your lady friend. That you will have by special messenger very soon. Therefore remain patient."
"Why are all these precautions being taken to prevent my arrest?" Hugh asked. "I confess I don't understand it."
"Neither do I. But when Il Pa.s.sero commands we all obey."
"You are, I presume, his agent in Brussels?"