“So they think that if the Signorino Henfrey is innocent I am guilty of the murderous attack—eh?”
Benton nodded.
“But they are seeking to arrest the signorino!” remarked the Italian.
“Yes. That is why I am here—to establish his innocence.”
“And if I were to tell you that he was innocent I should condemn myself!” laughed the crafty old man.
“Look here, Giulio,” said Benton. “I confess that I have long ago regretted the shabby manner in which I treated you when we were all in Brussels, and I hope you will allow me to make some little amend.” Then, taking from his pocket-book several hundred-franc notes, he doubled them up and placed them on the table.
“Ah!” said the old man. “I see! You want to buy my secret! No, take your money!” he cried, pushing it back towards him contemptuously. “I want none of it.”
“Because you are now earning an honest living,” Benton sneered.
“Yes—and Il Passero knows it!” was Cataldi’s bold reply.
“Then you refuse to tell me anything you know concerning the events of that night at the Villa Amette?”