f informing the Consul of your arrival; but at present all the consular
messengers are taking their siesta; the moment one is awake I shall send
him to the casino. May I take the liberty of inquiring whether you have
any letters for the Consul?'

'None,' replied the traveller.

The chancellor shrugged his shoulders a little, as if he regretted
he had been roused from his siesta for a traveller who had not even a
letter of introduction, and then turned on his heel to depart.

The traveller took up his hat, hesitated a moment, and then said, 'Pray,
may I inquire of whom this is a portrait?'

'Certainly,' replied the chancellor; ''tis the Signora Ponsonby.'

CHAPTER III.

_The Mysterious Stranger_

IT WAS even upon as ignoble an animal as a Barbary ass, goaded by a
dusky little islander almost in a state of nudity, that, an hour before
sunset on the day of his arrival, the English traveller approached the
casino of the Consul's daughter, for there a note from Major Ponsonby
had invited him to repair, to be introduced to his daughter, and to
taste his oranges. The servant who received him led Mr. Ferrers to a
very fine plane-tree, under whose spreading branches was arranged a
banquet of fruit and flowers, coffee in cups of oriental filigree, and
wines of the Levant, cooled in snow. The worthy Consul was smoking his
chibouque, and his daughter, as she rose to greet their guest, let her
guitar fall upon the turf. The original of the portrait proved that the
painter had no need to flatter; and the dignified, yet cordial manner,
the radiant smile, and the sweet and thrilling voice with which she
welcomed her countryman would have completed the spell, had, indeed, the
wanderer been one prepared, or capable of being enchanted. As it was,
Mr. Ferrers, while he returned his welcome, with becoming complaisance,
exhibited the breeding of a man accustomed to sights of strangeness
and of beauty; and, while he expressed his sense of the courtesy of his
companions, admired their garden, and extolled the loveliness of the
prospect, he did not depart for a moment from that subdued, and even
sedate manner, which indicates, the individual whom the world has little
left to astonish, and less to enrapture, although, perhaps, much to
please. Yet he was fluent in conversation, sensible and polished, and
very agreeable. It appeared that he had travelled much, though he was
far from boasting of his exploits. He had been long abse