mits are, and all about it, what would
they say to these queer efforts of mine? They would not even dignify
them by the word 'distorted.' They would call them unmitigated bosh,
and set me down as a virulent maniac. No, signori, I am not ambitious,
and so I shall not lay myself open to that sort of snubbing. Come
across to the other room for cigarettes and vermouth."

And there we sat till the melancholy chaunt of the _sereno_
outside told us it was five o'clock, and, with the blessing of God, a
fine morning.

A certain black box, my one piece of salvage from the wreck at Genoa,
came up from the ugly cutter next afternoon, and I am proud to say that
my violin added another link between us.

For the next three days we had as good a time as one need wish to
enjoy. Every evening after his duties at the theatre were over the old
Italian called us round his piano, and we feasted on what we all three
loved. And then the opera company took steamer to fulfil an engagement
at Valencia. Haigh was for accompanying them. Amongst other reasons he
had a bit of a penchant for the soprano's understudy. But I said "No,"
reminding him of the other business we had in hand, and pointing out
how much time had been frittered away already.

"Oh, as to that," said he, "I think we may as well pat the pocket that
holds what we've got, and resign ourselves to Kismet with regard to the
rest."

"It's scarcely wise to throw the sponge up yet. I am not hopeful, but I
don't despair."

"I'm letting the thing drop from my mind. However, if you've an idea,
old chappie, let's hear it."

"What do you say to taking up another partner?"

"To what end? I fail to see what use a third would be. Still, give the
proposed partner a name."

"Taltavull."

"Phew! I say, I rather bar meddling with politics, especially the
white-hot explosive politics that he affects."

"So do I. I hate 'em. Still, if there's anybody able to ferret out
where that Recipe's got to, and make the present holder disgorge, that
long, lean, respectable-looking anarchist is the man. To begin with, he
has a far cleverer head on him than either of us can run to, and from
what I told you about his theories, he'll be as keen as knives when
once he's shown the scent."

"But the man's not more than human," objected Haigh. "I don't see that
he'll be able to squint farther through a brick wall than either of us
could."

"He has more chances, for this reason: he's mixed up with social