But the thought of the length of time which such a search would involve drove me to the verge of despair. I must find some means by which I myself could take part in the search. To sit still with folded hands was a sheer impossibility. I thought of Inez. She might now be willing to help me. I had the key now to what had so perplexed me during the last few minutes I had spent in her house. While she and Barosa were wrangling, Marco had rushed up with the news of the police raid, and this had prevented Inez from keeping her promise to return to me. She had meant to return--that was clear now--and she was in fierce earnest that Miralda should leave the house with me. The loaded revolver--which had proved such a Greek gift when the police had found it upon me--had been honestly given, to provide me with the means of overcoming any opposition, whether from Barosa or others, to our getting away. But the words she had used in giving it only pointed to greater danger now. “Get Miralda away or I will not answer for myself.” With Barosa and Miralda still associated, the devil of jealousy I had roused in Inez might goad her to some act of wild rage against Miralda; and the thought that I had placed her in this added peril stung and scorched me with all the agony of a festering wound. My helplessness was torture; and yet I could not think how to commence my search, where to go, or what to do. Stay in the house I could not, and I rushed out into the streets, wandering aimlessly about, scrutinizing every one I met, as if I expected that some of those I sought would stroll about publicly in the full light of day in order that I might see them. After a time I found myself close to Inez’ house, and as I loitered about I narrowly escaped being once more arrested by the police. I went from there to the house in the Rua Catania and then to the Rua Formosa, where I had been subjected to the “test”--the most unlikely spots in all the city, of course, where I should find any one. And that I should go there at all only proved the fatuous vagueness of my thoughts. From the latter place I was on my way back to my rooms when I remembered where Henriques had been employed as a porter. I hurried there at once, but without result. Not a trace was to be found. I returned to my rooms in despair. It was now late in the afternoon, and little Pia was waiting for me. She had finished her few preparations and was ready to go. “You are in great trouble, Mr. Donnington. What is the matter?” she asked as I entered, her smile of welcome changing on the instant to a look of deep concern and sympathy. “Yes, I am in sore trouble. Wellnigh beside myself, but I will see to your matters.” “Tell me. Let me help you.” “Could you help me, I wonder.” I had not thought of her. She might know of some places where I could search, but on the other hand, she could not give me the information without bringing those with whom she had been associated into danger of arrest.