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 Godfrey 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 Passero’s friends?” Hugh said with a smile.
“Yes. Hence I am your friend,” was the reply.