he secret of that dastardly attempt upon me when
we last met," I said in a low voice. "Why not tell me the truth? I
surely ought to know who my enemies really are, so as to be warned
against any future plot."

"You shall know some day, signore. I dare not tell you now."

"You said that before," I exclaimed with dissatisfaction. "If you are
faithful to me, you ought at least to tell me the reason they wished to
kill me in secret."

"Because they fear you," was his answer.

"Why should they fear me?"

But he shrugged his shoulders, and made a gesture with his hands
indicative of utter ignorance.

"I ask you one question. Answer yes or no. Is the man Leithcourt my
enemy?"

The young Italian paused, and then answered:

"He is not your friend. I am quite well aware of that."

"And his daughter? She is engaged, I hear."

"I think so."

"Where did you first meet Leithcourt?"

"I have known him several years. When we first met he was poor."

"Suddenly became rich--eh?"

"Bought a fine house in the country; lives mostly at the Carlton when he
and his wife and daughter are in London--although I believe they now
have a house somewhere in the West End--and he often makes long cruises
on his steam-yacht."

"And how did he make his money?"

Again Olinto elevated his shoulders, without replying.

If he would only betray to me the reason he had been induced to entice
me to that house, I might then be able to form some conclusion regarding
the tenants of Rannoch and their friends.

Who was the man who, having represented the man now before me, had been
struck dead by an unerring hand? Was it possible that Armida had been
called by telegram to meet her husband, and recognizing the fraud
perpetrated upon her threatened to disclose it and, for that reason,
shared the same fate as the masquerader?

This was the first theory that occurred to me; one which I believed to
be the correct one. The motive was a mystery, yet the facts seemed to me
plain enough.

As the young Italian had refused to give any satisfactory explanation, I
resolved within myself to wait until the unfortunate woman's body was
recovered before revealing to him the ghastly truth. Without doubt he
had some reason in withholding from me the true facts, either because he
feared that I might become unduly alarmed, or else he himself had been
deeply implicated in the plot. Of the two suggestions, I was inclined to
believe in the latter.

He walked wi