If so, who was his white-faced companion—the beautiful woman who was terrorised?
Chapter Thirteen.
What the Watchers Saw.
Though utterly fagged out, I hailed a passing cab and drove back to the corner of Harpur Street, where, in the shadow, about half-way along the short thoroughfare, I discovered the young Italian keeping a watchful eye upon the house with the sign of the bear.
“No one has emerged, signore,” he said to me in Italian. “I was here a few minutes after you spoke to me.”
The blind was still up, and the signal still exhibited, the inmates evidently being unaware of the secret visit of the strange pair.
What connection could Father Bernardo and the old hunchback Graniani, away in Italy, have with that mysterious household?
“Has anyone passed up the street during my absence?” I asked the merry-eyed Enrico.