"My dear Elena, how does Austria know so many secrets of her enemies?" he laughed. "Schreyer is now head of that department of the Secret Service which deals with affairs here in Italy, and--" "And you, an Italian, are one of his agents," she interrupted, in a low, meaning voice. He bowed in the affirmative in silence. Then, after a few moments, he remarked, in a strange, meaning tone, his black, penetrating eyes fixed upon her: "I know the secret of your nationality, and your friendship with Count Schreyer--and you know mine. So, my dear Elena, we have nothing to fear from each other. Do you understand?" "I don't understand. You surely are not hinting that I should betray my husband's secrets--the naval secrets of Italy?" The dark, smooth-tongued man from Rome smiled quietly, as he answered: "That, my dear Elena, is exactly the message I bear to you from Schreyer. It is known that your husband tells you a good deal. You have whispered secrets to your friends, the Comtesse Landrini, and also the Renata Pozzi. If to them, then why not to me--eh?" "Never!" she cried. "I have married an Italian, and I am now Italian." "But the money. It will be useful. Levitski must be paid in full in eight weeks' time. Seventy-two thousand lire. That is the sum, I think? If you fail him this time, he will take his revenge and tell the truth." "He does not know." "But Schreyer will tell him." "What?" she gasped, starting from her chair. "Has the Count told you that?" "Well, he has not exactly said so in words," was her visitor's reply. "He only hinted at it, and sent me straight to see you. I had to travel by way of Holland and London--quite a long journey." "Then you shall tell him that I refuse," she answered. "I will never betray Italy, and more especially through Guilio, who believes in my patriotism, and never dreams that I am anything but an Italian born and bred." "That makes it all the easier. He will never suspect you," remarked the sallow-faced man, with a sinister smile upon his lips. "I tell you," she cried angrily, "I decline to enter into it at all. I--" The door suddenly opened as she spoke, and there entered the Admiral, a smart, good-looking, middle-aged man in uniform with decorations, whose appearance was so unexpected that they both started. "Decline what, my dear?" he asked sharply. "What is the matter?" "Oh, nothing, Guilio," she laughed lightly. "You recollect Signor Corradini, who used to come to see us in Livorno?" "Why, of course," said the Admiral, as the two men bowed to each other. A lie rose readily to her lips, and she said: "Well, Signor Corradini has called in order to try and induce me to take part in the Princess di Paliano's _tableaux vivants_ at Bologna, in aid of the Croce-Rosso. But I am far too busy with hospital work here in Sarzana, so I have declined.