“Neither do I. But when Il Passero commands we all obey.”
“You are, I presume, his agent in Brussels?”
“His friend—not his agent,” Vervoort replied with a smile.
“Do you know Mademoiselle Lisette?” Hugh asked. “She was with me in Genoa.”
“Yes. We have met. A very clever little person. Il Passero thinks very highly of her. She has been educated in the higher schools, and is perhaps one of our cleverest decoys.”
Hugh Henfrey paused.
“Now look here, Monsieur Vervoort,” he exclaimed at last, “I’m very much in the dark about all this curious business. Lisette knows a lot concerning Mademoiselle Yvonne.”
“Admitted. She acted once as her maid, I believe, in some big affair. But I don’t know much about it.”
“Well, you know what happened at the Villa Amette that night? Have you any idea of the identity of the person who shot poor Mademoiselle—the lady they call Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo?”
“Not in the least,” was the reply. “All I know is that Il Passero has some very keen and personal interest in the affair. He has sent further orders to you. It is imperative, he says, that you should get away from Brussels. The police are too keen here.”