"Then I take it, sir, that you trust me, and that my case is one of extreme necessity?"
"It is," was The Sparrow's reply. "At present I can see no solution of the problem. It will be best, perhaps, for you to remain where you are for the present," he added. He did not tell the young man of his knowledge of Benton and his hostess.
"But I am very desirous of seeing Miss Ranscomb," Hugh said. "Is there any way possible by which I can meet her without running too great a risk?"
The Sparrow reflected in silence for some moments.
"To-day is Wednesday," he remarked slowly at last. "Miss Ranscomb is in London. That I happen to know. Well, go to the Bush Hotel, in Farnham, on Friday afternoon and have tea. She will probably motor there and take tea with you."
"Will she?" cried Hugh eagerly. "Will you arrange it? You are, indeed, a good Samaritan!"
The little old man smiled.
"I quite understand that this enforced parting under such circumstances is most unfortunate for you both," he said. "But I have done, and will continue to do, all I can in your interest."
"I can't quite make you out, Mr. Peters," said the young man. "Why should you evince such a paternal interest in me?"
The Sparrow did not at once reply. A strange expression played about his lips.
"Have I not already answered that question twice?" he asked. "Rest assured, Mr. Henfrey, that I have your interests very much at heart."
"You have some reason for that, I'm sure."
"Well--yes, I have a reason--a reason which is my own affair." And he rose to wish his visitor "good-night."
"I'll not forget to let Miss Ranscomb know that you will be at Farnham. She will, no doubt, manage to get her mother's car for the afternoon," he said. "Good-night!" and with his gloved fingers he took the young man's outstretched hand.
The instant he heard the front door close he crossed to the telephone, and asking for a number, told the person who answered it to come round and see him without a moment's delay.
Thus, while Hugh Henfrey was seated beside Mead as Mrs. Bond's car went swiftly towards Kensington, a thin, rather wiry-looking man of middle age entered The Sparrow's room.
The latter sprang to his feet quickly at sight of his visitor.
"Ah! Howell! I'm glad you've come. Benton and Molly Maxwell are deceiving us. They mean mischief!"
The man he addressed as Howell looked aghast.
"Mischief?" he echoed. "In what way?"
"I've not yet arrived at a full conclusion. But we must be on the alert and ready to act whenever the time is ripe. You know what they did over that little affair in Marseilles not so very long ago? They'll repeat, if we're not very careful. That girl of Benton's they are using as a decoy--and she's a dangerous one."