The General elevated his eyebrows. “From all I have heard of him—I have never met him—a most quiet, unassuming fellow. How could he give offence to anybody?”
“I must let you into one of my secrets, Beilski. This young man is acting for me in a certain matter. I have given him some information which, according to my instructions, he has divulged to somebody else, a woman.”
“Is there any objection to telling me the name of the woman?”
“As I have gone so far, I may as well go a little bit farther,” was the Count’s answer. “But, at the moment, you must remember it is only a conjecture. The woman whom I suspect of having sent that note is La Belle Quéro.”
“The woman who gives supper parties to men whom we strongly suspect, but regarding whom we have, up to the present, no actual proof,” commented Beilski.
“Precisely.” The Count looked at his watch. “That carriage has started with its freight some time ago. I think we can soon solve the problem of whether Corsini is the occupant or not.”
“Your theory is, then, either that this Madame Quéro has more conscience than her associates, or is in love with the young man and has made up her mind to save him?”
Golitzine nodded his head. “If my suspicions are wrong, Corsini is at one of two places, either at his hotel or at the Zouroff concert. He told me yesterday he was going there to-night to play. We will send round a guarded note to each, only to be delivered into his own hands.”
This was done, and the two men waited for the result. The man despatched to the Palace returned first. He had inquired for Signor Corsini and was told that he had left a long time ago.
The other messenger arrived a few seconds later. He had seen the manager of the hotel. Corsini had not come back, a most unusual thing, since for a man in his profession he kept early hours.