She had not been so sound asleep in her room as might have been thought.
What she was doing now was quite in accord with her usual methods.
She liked to be sure that her directions were properly carried out, and one of the secrets of her hold over her men was that they never knew when she would appear before them.
In the present case there was no necessity for her to make herself known, she thought. So she contented herself with looking in silence.
There was a particular reason for her coming now to see what would be done about getting Drago from the place where he had been left in the woods to the yacht. That reason was that she had learned of the intention of Nick Carter to find Drago, somehow, and she knew the detective well enough to hear that he would stumble on the boat that was to put in at the edge of the woods to get the prisoner.
If Nick Carter happened to find out what was going on, she did not know what might be the end of it all.
Perhaps the strange power he exercised over her heart without desiring to do so may have had something to do with Mademoiselle Valeria’s anxiety.
Be that as it may, she was there.
Not a word or movement escaped her. She was content to let her men carry out their work in their own way.
Now that Nick Carter had been overcome, and his man, the porter, lay on the ground with a bullet through his thigh, she had no doubt that all would go as she had planned.