ell him something concerning the
mysterious Mademoiselle, but he failed to elicit any further information
of interest.

"Her fortune at the Rooms is wonderful, they say," Lisette said. "She
must be very rich."

"But she is one of Il Passero's assistants--eh?"

The girl laughed lightly.

"Perhaps," was her enigmatical reply. "Who knows? It is, however,
evident that Il Passero is seriously concerned at the tragic affair at
the Villa Amette."

"Have you ever been there?"

She hesitated a few moments, then said: "Yes, once."

"And you know the old Italian servant Cataldi?"

She replied in the affirmative. Then she added:

"I know him, but I do not like him. She trusts him, but----"

"But what?"

"I would not. I should be afraid, for to my knowledge he is a _saigneur
a musique_."

"And what is that?"

"An assassin."

"What?" cried Henfrey. "Is he guilty of murder--and Mademoiselle knows
it?"

"Mademoiselle may not know about it. She is probably in ignorance, or
she would not employ him."

Her remark was of considerable interest, inasmuch as old Cataldi had
seemed to be most devoted to his mistress, and entirely trusted by her.

"Do you know the circumstances?" asked Hugh.

"Yes. But it is not our habit to speak of another's--well,
shortcomings," was her reply.

"Surely, Mademoiselle should have been told the truth! Does not Il
Passero know?" he asked.

There flitted across his mind at that moment the recollection of Dorise.
What could she think of his disappearance? He longed to write to her,
but The Sparrow's chauffeur had impressed upon him the serious danger he
would be running if he wrote to her while she was at Monte Carlo.

"I question whether he does know. But if he does he would say nothing."

"Ah!" sighed Hugh. "Yours is indeed a queer world, mademoiselle. And not
without interest."

"It is full of adventure and excitement, of ups and downs, of constant
travel and change, and of eternal apprehension of arrest," replied the
girl, with a laugh.

"I wish you would tell me something about Yvonne Ferad," he repeated.

"Alas! m'sieur, I am not permitted," was her obdurate reply. "I am truly
sorry to hear of the dastardly attack upon her. She once did me a
very kind and friendly action at a moment when I was in sore need of a
friend."

"Who could have fired the shot, do you think?" Henfrey asked. "You know
her friends. Perhaps you know her enemies?"

Mademoiselle Lisette was silent for