“If all goes well, I shall make the arrest to-night,” said Leglosse, and then added, “I must get back to Paris as soon as possible.”

That afternoon he went out once more, this time to interview the police authorities.  At five o’clock he returned in a state of great excitement.

“The other two have discovered Hayle’s whereabouts,” he said, when we were alone together.  “And they have set off in pursuit.  They have been gone more than an hour, and, unless we start at once, we shall be too late to take him before they run him to earth.”

“Good Heavens!  Are you quite sure of this?”

“As sure as I can be of anything,” he answered.  “I have been to their house.”

“Do not say anything about this to Miss Kitwater,” I said hurriedly.  “We must make the best excuse we can to account for our absence.”

I tried to do this, but she saw through my endeavour.

“You are going to arrest him, I can see,” she said.  “Poor unhappy man!  But there, I would rather that should happen than he and my uncle should meet.  Go, Mr. Fairfax, and I pray God you may be successful.”

Leglosse had already engaged a cab, and when I joined him I discovered that he had also brought a Sicilian police official with him.  This individual gave the driver his instructions, and away we went.  As we had informed the cabman, previous to setting out, that there was no time to be lost, we covered the distance in fine style, and just as the sun was sinking behind the mountains entered the little village on the outskirts of which the villa was situated.  It was a delightful spot, a mere cluster of human habitations, clinging to the mountain-side.  The Angelus was sounding from the campanile of the white monastery, further up the hill-side as we drove along the main street.  Leaving the village behind us we passed on until we came to the gates of the park in which the villa was situated.  We had already formed our plans, and it was arranged that the island official should send his name in to Hayle, Leglosse and I keeping in the background as much as possible.  We descended from the carriage and Leglosse rang the bell which we discovered on the wall; presently the door was opened, and a wizened-up little man made his appearance before us.  An animated conversation ensued, from which it transpired that the new occupant of the villa was now in the pavilion at the foot of the grounds.

“In that case conduct us to him,” said the officer, “but remember this, we desire to approach without being seen.  Lead on!”

The old man obeyed and led us by a winding path through the orangery for upwards of a quarter of a mile.  At the end of that walk we saw ahead of us a handsome white edifice, built of stucco, and of the summer-house order.  It stood on a small plateau on the first slope of the cliff and commanded an exquisite view of the bay, the blue waters of which lay some two hundred feet or so below it.