So Hugh and his companion waited, examining the poorly-furnished little room.
Now The Sparrow entertained a strong suspicion that Cataldi knew more of the tragedy at the Villa Amette than anyone else. Indeed, of late, it had more than once crossed his mind that he might be the actual culprit.
At last the door opened and the old man entered, surprised to find himself in the presence of the master criminal, The Sparrow, whom he had only met once before.
He greeted his visitors rather timidly.
After a short chat The Sparrow, who had offered the old man a cigarette from a cheap plated case much worn, began to make certain inquiries.
“This is a very serious and confidential affair, Cataldi,” he said. “I want to know the absolute truth—and I must have it.”
“I know it is serious, signore,” replied the old man, much perturbed by the unexpected visit of the king of the underworld, the elusive Sparrow of whom everyone spoke in awe. “But I only know one or two facts. I recognize Signor Henfrey.”
“Ah! Then you know me!” exclaimed Hugh. “You recognized me on that night at the Villa Amette, when you opened the door to me.”
“I do, signore. I recollect everything. It is all photographed upon my memory. Poor Mademoiselle! You questioned her—as a gentleman would—and you demanded to know about your father’s death. She prevaricated—and——”
“Then you overheard it?” said Hugh.