‘Come out on the loggia just a moment, Uncle Howard; I want to tell you something.’
He followed her in some surprise. She went down the steps and paused on the terrace, well out of ear-shot of the salon windows.
‘Uncle Howard, I saw the tattooed man to-day.’
Mr. Copley paused with a match in one hand and a cigar in the other. ‘Whereabouts?’ he asked.
‘Asleep in the ruined grotto.’
‘There was a crucifix tattooed upside down on his breast.’
‘So!’
He examined the pavement in silence a moment, then he raised his head with an excited little laugh such as a hunter might give when hot on the scent.
‘Well! I thought I had done for him, but it appears not.’ He strode over to the salon windows. ‘Sybert—ah, Sybert,’ he called in a low tone, ‘just step out here a moment.’