“Not liberty, m’sieur. We are not yet what you say in English ‘out of the wood.’”
“Where are we going now?”
“To Genoa. We ought to be there by early morning,” was the reply. “Morain has, no doubt, telephoned to Mentone and discovered that my story is false. So if later, on, they suspect the American invalid they will be looking out for him on the Col di Tenda, in Cuneo, and in Turin.”
“And what shall we do in Genoa?”
“Let us get there first—and see.”
“But I wish you would tell me who you are—and why you take such a keen interest in my welfare,” Hugh said.
The man gave vent to an irritating laugh.
“I am not permitted to disclose the identity of your friend,” he answered. “All I know is that you are innocent.”
“Then perhaps you know the guilty person?” Hugh suggested.
“Ah! Let us talk of something else, signore,” was the mysterious chauffeur’s reply.