steps, dressed in the clothes he
wore."

At that name, uttered in so ill-omened a place, I felt a fresh access of
terror. It seemed as though the soul of that wicked man must be still
hovering over his unburied remains, and boding evil to us all. A chill
crept over me, the light, the walls, my brother, and Raffaelle all swam
round, and I sank swooning on the stairs.

When I returned fully to my senses we were in the landau again making
our way back to the Villa de Angelis.

CHAPTER XV

The next morning my health and strength were entirely restored to me,
but my brother, on the contrary, seemed weak and exhausted from his
efforts of the previous night. Our return journey to the Villa de
Angelis had passed in complete silence. I had been too much perturbed
to question him on the many points relating to the strange events as to
which I was still completely in the dark, and he on his side had shown
no desire to afford me any further information. When I saw him the next
morning he exhibited signs of great weakness, and in response to an
effort on my part to obtain some explanation of the discovery of Adrian
Temple's body, avoided an immediate reply, promising to tell me all he
knew after our return to Worth Maltravers.

I pondered over the last terrifying episode very frequently in my own
mind, and as I thought more deeply of it all, it seemed to me that the
outlines of some evil history were piece by piece developing themselves,
that I had almost within my grasp the clue that would make all plain,
and that had eluded me so long. In that dim story Adrian Temple, the
music of the _Gagliarda_, my brother's fatal passion for the violin,
all seemed to have some mysterious connection, and to have conspired in
working John's mental and physical ruin. Even the Stradivarius violin
bore a part in the tragedy, becoming, as it were, an actively malignant
spirit, though I could not explain how, and was yet entirely unaware of
the manner in which it had come into my brother's possession.

I found that John was still resolved on an immediate return to England.
His weakness, it is true, led me to entertain doubts as to how he would
support so long a journey; but at the same time I did not feel justified
in using any strong efforts to dissuade him from his purpose. I
reflected that the more wholesome air and associations of England would
certainly re-invigorate both body and mind, and that any extra strain
brought about by t