"Not the man whom you know as Ashwicke, but another," she responded. "He was interested in the occult sciences, apparently wealthy, and much enamoured of me. In the six months of our courtship I learned to love him madly, and the result was that we were married at the Municipio, in Milan, which stands exactly opposite the entrance to the theatre. A month afterwards, however, he decamped with my jewels and the whole of the money I had saved, leaving behind him, as his only personal possessions, a box containing some rare old vellum books which he had purchased somewhere down in the old Tuscan towns, and of which he had been extremely careful. At first I could not believe that he could have treated me thus, after all his professions of love; but as the weeks passed and he did not return, I slowly realised the truth that I had been duped and deserted. It was then that I made a vow of revenge. "Ten endless years passed, and, my personal beauty having faded, I was compelled to remain on the stage, accepting menial parts and struggling for bread until, by the death of a cousin, I found myself with sufficient to live upon. Though I had no clue to who my husband was, beyond a name which had most probably been assumed, I nevertheless treasured his books, feeling vaguely that some day they might give me a clue. In those years that went by I spent days and days deciphering the old black letters, and translating from the Latin and Italian. They were nearly all works dealing with the ancient practice of medicine, but one there was dealt with secret poisons. I have it here;" and unlocking a drawer in a rosewood cabinet, she took therefrom a big leather-covered tome, written in Latin upon vellum. There was an old rusted lock of Florentine workmanship upon it, and the leather was worm-eaten and tattered. "This contains the secret of the vayana," she went on, opening the ponderous volume before me upon the table. "I discovered that the poison was the only one impossible of detection, and then it occurred to me to prepare it, and with it strike revenge. Well, although I had been in London a dozen times in search of the man I had once loved, I came again and settled down here, determined to spare no effort to discover him. Through four whole years I sought him diligently, when at last I was successful. I discovered who and what he was." "Who was he?" I inquired. "The man you know as Major Tattersett. His real name is Ashwicke." "Tattersett?" gasped Beryl. "And he is your husband?"