"A signore--a great signore," replied Beppo. "He is rich, and is often on the Riviera in winter. He's probably there now. Nobody suspects him. He is often in England, too. I believe he has a house in London. During the war he worked for the French Secret Service under the name of Monsieur Franqueville, and the French Government never suspected that they actually had in their employ the famous Passero for whom the Surete were looking everywhere."
"You have no idea where he lives in London?"
"I was once told that he had a big house somewhere in what you call the West End--somewhere near Piccadilly. I have, however, only seen him once. About eighteen months ago he was hard pressed by the police and took refuge here for two nights, till Paolo called for him in his fine car and he passed out of Italy as a Swiss hotel-proprietor."
"Then he is head of a gang--is he?"
"Yes," was the man's reply. "He is marvellous, and has indeed well earned his sobriquet 'Il Passero.'"
A sudden thought flitted through Hugh's mind.
"I suppose he is a friend of Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo?"
"Ah, signore, I do not know. Il Passero had many friends. He is rich, prosperous, well-dressed, and has influential friends in France, in Italy and in England who never suspect him to be the notorious king of the thieves."
"Now, tell me," urged young Henfrey. "What do you know concerning Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo?"
The Italian looked at him strangely.
"Nothing," he replied, still speaking bad French.
"You are not speaking the truth."
"Why should I tell it to you? I do not know you!" was the quick retort.
"But you are harbouring me."
"At the orders of Il Passero."
"You surely can tell me what you know of Mademoiselle," Hugh persisted after a brief pause. "We are mutually her friends. The attempt to kill her is outrageous, and I, for one, intend to do all I can to trace and punish the culprit."
"They say that you shot her."
"Well--you know that I did not," Henfrey said. "Have you yourself ever met Mademoiselle?"
"I have seen her. She was living for a time at Santa Margherita last year. I had a friend of hers living here with me and I went to her with a message. She is a very charming lady."
"And a friend of Il Passero?"
The Italian shrugged his shoulders with a gesture of ignorance.
Hugh Henfrey had certainly learned much that was curious. He had never before heard of the interesting cosmopolitan thief known as The Sparrow, but it seemed evident that the person in question had suddenly become interested in him for some obscure and quite unaccountable reason.