"But I can prove it," I asserted. "How?" "I have proof," I replied ambiguously, for I did not intend to show my hand. "Then you are at liberty to use it for whatever purpose you like," he answered defiantly. "But we were alone." "Ah!" I exclaimed quickly. "Then you admit your identity?" "I admit nothing." "Until I can show proof positive, eh? Until I can bring those who will bear witness that, on the twenty-fourth of June, you were at number 94, Queen's-gate Gardens; that you sent for me; that on my arrival you tempted me to marry Beryl Wynd; that you accompanied me to the church of St Ann's, and that, having accepted the promise of payment, you afterwards attempted to induce me to take her life." "Lies--all of it." "We shall see. You tried to take my life. Revenge is now mine," I added in a hard, distinct voice. It may have been only my fancy, yet I could not help noticing that the word revenge caused him to shrink, and regard me with some misgiving. "How?" he inquired. "No," I responded firmly; "we are enemies. That is sufficient. I have discovered the whole plot, therefore rest assured that those who victimised both Beryl and myself, and have made dastardly attempts upon our lives, shall not go unpunished." I had altered my tactics, deeming it best to assume a deeper knowledge of the affair than that which I really possessed. It was a delicate matter; this accusation must be dealt with diplomatically. "My private opinion of you, sir, is that you are a confounded fool," he said. "I may be," I responded. "But I intend that you, who enmeshed into your plot a defenceless woman, and who abducted me aboard so cleverly, in order to gain time, shall bear the exposure and punishment that you merit." He nodded slowly as though perfectly comprehending my meaning. "Then I take it that Beryl is aware of your actual alliance with her?" he asked, his small eyes flashing at me. But I made no satisfactory answer. I was wary of him, for I knew him to be a clever miscreant. His tone betrayed an anxiety to know the exact extent of Beryl's knowledge. "Beryl is my wife, and my interests are hers," I replied. "It is sufficient that I am aware of the whole truth." "You think so," he laughed with sarcasm. "Well, you are at liberty to hold your own opinion." "The fact is," I said, "that you accepted Sir Henry's invitation here, never dreaming that you would come face to face with me. I am the last person in the world you desired to meet." "The encounter has given me the utmost pleasure, I assure you," he replied with a sneer. "Just as it will not only to yourself but to a certain other." "Who?" "A person whom you know well--an intimate friend of yours." "I don't follow you." "It is a woman. Think of your female friends." "What is her name?" "La Gioia." "La Gioia?" he gasped glaring at me. His face was livid and his surprise apparent. I saw that he had never dreamt that I knew of her existence.