The Man Cataldi

On the day that Hugh was travelling in hot haste to Paris, Charles Benton arrived in Nice early in the afternoon.

Leaving the station it was apparent he knew his way about the town, for passing down the Avenue de la Gare, with its row of high eucalyptus trees, to the Place Massena, he plunged into the narrow, rather evil-smelling streets of the old quarter.

Before a house in the Rue Rossette he paused, and ascending to a flat on the third floor, rang the bell. The door was slowly opened by an elderly, rather shabbily-attired Italian.

It was Yvonne's late servant at the Villa Amette, Giulio Cataldi.

The old man drew back on recognizing his visitor.

"Well, Cataldi!" exclaimed the well-dressed adventurer cheerily. "I'm quite a stranger--am I not? I was in Nice, and I could not leave without calling to see you."

The old man, with ill-grace scarcely concealed, invited him into his shabby room, saying: "Well, Signor Benton, I never thought to see you again."

"Perhaps you didn't want to--eh? After that little affair in Brussels. But I assure you it was not my fault. Mademoiselle Yvonne made the blunder."

"And nearly let us all into the hands of the police--including The Sparrow himself!" growled the old fellow.

"Ah! But all that has long blown over. Now," he went on, after he had offered the old man a cigar. "Now the real reason I've called is to ask you about this nasty affair concerning Mademoiselle Yvonne. You were there that night. What do you know about it?"