Bob regarded me with a stare of curiosity, mingled with suspicion, and maintained silence for a few moments. Then he said, incredulously,-- "Is it possible there is anything unknown to you, save what we used to discuss when we first met your wife?" "I'm absolutely ignorant of all save the fact that, with an infatuation for which I cannot account, I loved Vera and married her. I love her still, in spite of--Oh, I cannot go further! For Heaven's sake tell me all you know now, at once, or I shall not retain my senses?" Bob's face was a study for a time. It apparently struck him that I was playing a part and wished to learn the depth of his knowledge regarding my wife. After a short pause, however, he continued, and imparted to me the first facts I had ever learned on this mysteriously-guarded point. "Well, you see, after you left Genoa business compelled me to return. I was thrown on my own resources for a day or two, and during that period I made it a point to keep my ears open so as to catch anything I could regarding the mysterious fair one who had so interested us. Having a friend with me who was known at the police bureau it needed not a great deal of ingenuity to ascertain a few particulars. The first thing that came to light was the fact that old Hertzen, the grumbling uncle, was living under an assumed name." "Vera's uncle! Was he--is he--not her uncle?" I exclaimed. "Oh, yes; he's her uncle, I believe," replied my friend, placidly. "It was not surprising that he was--and is--assuming another patronymic, because, being a Russian exile--" "An exile!" "My dear fellow, do not keep interrupting. Yes, I say, being a Russian exile, for some offence or other, it was quite a reasonable deceit to practise. But, while it was almost certain that Hertzen was not his real name, it was equally certain that he was some relation of Vera's, for he lavished a vast amount of care and attention on her which could not be accounted for on any other supposition. At the same time it was very curious that my informant would not say who he believed Hertzen to be, so on that point I am still quite ignorant." "Go on, go on, please; and remember that I want to know about Vera," I said, with some impatience. "Listen, then. Your wife's father was a Russian Count, a man of great wealth, who lived at Warsaw! Vera, his daughter, developed into the beautiful girl we met. Count Nicholas Seroff, her father, was a brave and loyal soldier, and when the Turko-Russian War broke out in 1877 was placed in a responsible position. He had previously served with great distinction in the Crimea, where he gained the sky-blue ribbon of St Andrew `For Faith and Loyalty.'" Bob paused. "After the war, the count retired to his house in the Njazlov at Warsaw, where he bestowed all his paternal affection on Vera. The two became inseparable, and for a long time, I hear, lived together as one soul." "For a long time, you hear--what happened then?"