The Sparrow had been preoccupied and thoughtful the whole evening. But at last, as they sat together, he said:
“We shall all three go south to-morrow—to Nice direct.”
“To Nice!” exclaimed Lisette. “It is hardly safe—is it?”
“Yes. You will leave by the midday train from the Gare de Lyon—and go to Madame Odette’s in the boulevard Gambetta. I may want you. We shall follow by the train-de-luxe. It is best that Mr. Henfrey is out of Paris. The Surete will certainly be searching for him.”
Then, turning to Hugh, he told him that he had better remain his guest that night, and in the morning he would buy him another suit, hat and coat.
“There will not be so much risk in Nice as here in Paris,” he added. “After all, we ought not to have ventured out to Vian’s.”
Later he sat down, and after referring to a pocket-book containing certain entries, he scribbled four cryptic telegrams which were, apparently, Bourse quotations, but when read by their addressees were of quite a different character.
He went out and himself dispatched these from the office of the Grand Hotel. He never entrusted his telegrams of instructions to others.
When he returned ten minutes later he took up Le Soir, and searching it eagerly, suddenly exclaimed:
“Ah! Here it is! Manfield has been successful and got away all right with the German countess’s trinkets!”