ly know what I was told," the Englishman
answered bluntly.

"It's no affair of mine. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

The Sicilian stood quite still for a moment; a shade of sadness stole
into his marble face, and his tone, when he spoke again, was more
mournful than angry.

"It may be as you say, Signor. I have been traveling, and for many
months I have seen nothing of my sister. I have heard such rumors as you
allude to, but I have not heeded them. The affair is between us two. I
will say no more. Only this. While I am alive, that marriage will not
take place!"

He resumed his seat, and conversation languished between the two men.
The Englishman sat with knitted eyebrows, watching the people pass
backward and forward, with an absent, puzzled look in his blue eyes. He
had an indistinct recollection of having been told something interesting
about this man at the time of their introduction. He was notorious for
something. What was it? His memory seemed utterly to fail him. He could
only remember that, for some reason or other, Leonardo di Marioni had
been considered a very interesting figure in Roman society during his
brief stay at the capital, and that he had vanished from it quite
suddenly.

The Sicilian, too, was watching the people pass to and fro, but more
with the intent gaze of one who awaits an expected arrival than with the
idle regard of his companion. Once the latter caught his anxious,
expectant look, and at the same time noticed that the slim fingers which
held his cigarette were trembling nervously.

"Evidently looking out for some one," he thought. "Seems a queer fish
anyhow. Is it a man or a woman, I wonder?"

Soon he knew.

CHAPTER II

"SHE IS A SINGER"

There was a brief lull in the stream of promenaders. The Englishman
turned round with a yawn, and ordered another cup of coffee. From his
altered position he had a full view of the Sicilian's face, and became
suddenly aware of an extraordinary change in it. The restlessness was
gone; the watching seemed to be at an end. The fire of a deep passion
was blazing in his dark eyes, and the light of a great wistful joy shone
in his face. The Englishman, almost involuntarily, turned in his chair,
and glanced round to see what had wrought the change.

He looked into the eyes of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. A
flood of silver moonlight lay upon the Marina, glancing away across the
dark blue waters of the bay, and the soft dazzling l