uttleworth, whoever he might be. He had the look
of an honest, open, God-fearing man.

Yet why was he in such earnest consultation with the mysterious
Sylvia?

With his forefinger he was touching the palm of his left hand,
apparently to emphasize his words, while she looked pale, even
frightened. She was listening without comment, without protest, while
I stood watching them from behind. Many other visitors were idling
about the terrace, reading letters or newspapers, or chatting or
flirting--the usual morning occupations of a fashionable lake-side
hotel far removed from the strenuous turmoil of the business or social
worlds.

Suddenly she objected to some words which he uttered, objected
strongly, with rapid interruption and quick protest.

But he laid his hand quietly upon her arm, and seemed to convince her
of the truth or justice of his words.

Then, as she turned, she recognized me, and I raised my hat politely
in passing.

Shuttleworth's eyes met mine, and he stared at me. But I passed on, in
pretence that I had not recognized him as the watcher of the previous
night.

I idled about the terrace and the little landing-stage till noon, when
the steamer for Riva came up from Desenzano; and Shuttleworth, taking
leave of Sylvia, boarded the little craft with his two kit-bags, and
waved her farewell as the vessel drew away, making a wide wake upon
the glassy surface of the deep blue waters.

When he had gone, I crossed to her and spoke. She looked inexpressibly
charming in her white cotton gown and neat straw sailor hat with black
velvet band. There was nothing ostentatious about her dress, but it
was always well cut and fitted her to perfection. She possessed a
style and elegance all her own.

"Ah! Mr. Biddulph!" she exclaimed reproachfully. "Why have you not
heeded my words last night? Why have you not left? Go!--go, before it
is too late!" she urged, looking straight into my face with those
wonderful eyes of hers.

"But I don't understand you, Miss Pennington," I replied. "Why should
I leave here? What danger threatens me?"

"A grave one--a very grave one," she said in a low, hoarse whisper.
"If you value your life you should get away from this place."

"Who are these enemies of mine?" I demanded. "You surely should tell
me, so that I can take precautions against them."

"Your only precaution lies in flight," she said.

"But will you not tell me what is intended? If there is a conspiracy
against m