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It is agreed, however, that some mystery surrounds this woman in question. She left London quite suddenly, but left no debts behind." "Information from the Borough Police Office, Worthing, to the Prefecture of Police, Department of Herault. "Mademoiselle Yvonne Ferad has been identified by the photograph sent as having lived in Worthing in December, 1918.
Her eyes were fixed upon the revolving wheel, for upon the number sixteen she had just thrown a couple of thousand franc counters. The ball dropped with a sudden click, the croupier announced that number five had won, and at once raked in the two thousand francs among others. Mademoiselle shrugged her shoulders and smiled faintly. Yvonne Ferad was a born gambler.
It was the real Sparrow's order. He abominated the thought of taking human life, hence when old Mr. Henfrey had been foully done to death in the West End he had at once set to work to discover the actual criminal. This he had failed to do. And afterwards there had followed the attempted assassination of Yvonne Ferad, known as Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo.
"What happenings?" he asked, for he recollected the big dossier and the suspicions extending over four or five years concerning the real identity and mode of life of the handsome, sphinx-like woman Yvonne Ferad. Hugh Henfrey was silent for a few moments. Then he said: "Happenings in London that well, that I do not wish to recall." Ogier again looked him straight in the face.
Yvonne Ferad had slowly struggled back to health, but the injury to the brain had, alas! seriously upset the balance of her mind. Three of the greatest French specialists upon mental diseases had seen her and expressed little hope of her ever regaining her reason.
The little man became serious and shook his head gravely. "Ah! m'sieur, that I cannot say," was his reply. "She is in a very grave state very! And the brain may be affected." Hugh held his breath. Surely Yvonne Ferad was not to die with the secret upon her lips!
Bond was most courteous to her guests, and as Hugh and Benton strolled up and down the terrace in the fast growing darkness, the elder man remarked: "You'll be quite safe here, you know, Hugh. Don't worry. I'm truly sorry that you have landed yourself into this hole, but well, for the life of me I can't see what led you to seek out that woman, Yvonne Ferad. Why ever did you go there?"
It commenced: "Copy of an 'information' in the archives of the Prefecture of the Department of Herault concerning the woman Marie Mignot, or Leullier, now passing under the name of Yvonne Ferad and living at the Villa Amette at Monte Carlo.
"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.
Yvonne Ferad, the only person who could tell the truth, was a hopeless idiot because of the murderous attack. Hence, the onus of clearing himself rested upon Hugh. She loved him, but could she really trust him in face of the fact that he was concealed comfortably beneath the same roof as Louise Lambert?
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