whom he had seen--and, yet,
he was conscious of feeling a vague and awful doubt which shook him to
the soul. The questions which had tortured the mind of Agnes, were now
his questions too. He asked himself, 'In whose likeness might I have
recognised it before the decay set in? The likeness of Ferrari? or the
likeness of--?' He paused trembling, as Agnes had paused trembling
before him. Agnes! The name, of all women's names the dearest to him,
was a terror to him now! What was he to say to her? What might be the
consequence if he trusted her with the terrible truth?

No footsteps approached the door; no voices were audible outside. The
travellers were still occupied in the rooms at the eastern end of the
corridor.

In the brief interval that had passed, the manager had sufficiently
recovered himself to be able to think once more of the first and
foremost interests of his life--the interests of the hotel. He
approached Henry anxiously.

'If this frightful discovery becomes known,' he said, 'the closing of
the hotel and the ruin of the Company will be the inevitable results.
I feel sure that I can trust your discretion, sir, so far?'

'You can certainly trust me,' Henry answered. 'But surely discretion
has its limits,' he added, 'after such a discovery as we have made?'

The manager understood that the duty which they owed to the community,
as honest and law-abiding men, was the duty to which Henry now
referred. 'I will at once find the means,' he said, 'of conveying the
remains privately out of the house, and I will myself place them in the
care of the police authorities. Will you leave the room with me? or do
you not object to keep watch here, and help me when I return?'

While he was speaking, the voices of the travellers made themselves
heard again at the end of the corridor. Henry instantly consented to
wait in the room. He shrank from facing the inevitable meeting with
Agnes if he showed himself in the corridor at that moment.

The manager hastened his departure, in the hope of escaping notice. He
was discovered by his guests before he could reach the head of the
stairs. Henry heard the voices plainly as he turned the key. While
the terrible drama of discovery was in progress on one side of the
door, trivial questions about the amusements of Venice, and facetious
discussions on the relative merits of French and Italian cookery, were
proceeding on the other. Little by little, the sound of the talking
grew fai