"Impossible. The servants have gone to bed."
"Someone was listening at this window."
"Whom can it be?"
"Someone who suspects you. Can you think whom it would be?"
"No." The consul shook his head nervously.
"Very well, we'll see."
O'Connor turned and darted out of the window. In a moment he returned holding General Serano's official spy by the scruff of the neck. The interpreter's genial smile had given place to a look of terror and he trembled with fear. O'Connor swung him around so that he faced the consul.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
"Yes," answered Mr. Wyman, as he looked the man over with an expression of disgust, "he is General Serano's man Friday." Then to the man he said sternly: "What are you doing here, in my garden, at this time of night?"
"Preoccupation, Mr. Wyman, preoccupation of the mind. I must have strayed in by mistake. I hope you will pardon me."