He rose from his seat and crossing the foyer glanced up as her transcendingly beautiful but fragile form swept with a stately grace along the landing. She stood for a moment and started to read the note. Then, catching sight of Raife, she lowered it to her side and continued her journey upwards. More torture. Why did she disguise the note? What can have been the cryptic contents? Raife was enthralled with the subtle charms of this wonderful woman creature. Yet all his judgment kept telling him that their course could only lead to tragedy. A score of times a day he tore his soul in shreds by asking himself fatuous questions, to which he could find no answer. He was impelled with the fascination of a will-o'-the-wisp, and Gilda was the spirit that danced before him night and day. Gilda reached the retirement of her room, and then read the note, which said: "H of S Y is here. I have gone. Join me as soon as you can at C--. If we fail to meet there or at B--, meet L in a week or two." Haunted and hunted, deprived of all real companionship save that of this conspirator criminal who called himself her uncle, Gilda's courage failed for a brief while. Falling on to the lounge, covered with dainty dimity, which was at the foot of the bed she must soon vacate, this fragile girl, whose nerves had stood her in good stead so many times, sobbed. Yes! hunted from place to place. Hunted by fear of a Nemesis that pursued unrelentingly. When the entrance hall was practically deserted and the dining halls were crowded, a tall figure, cloaked and shrouded in a motor veil, crept down the stairs and entered a car in waiting. Into the mysterious night, quite slowly and silently, the car forged its way. Gilda did not know where she was going and had merely said to the chauffeur: "Drive on slowly until I tell you to turn." The fiendish malignity of an accomplished criminal has formed the subject of much moralising. Criminals of the type of Doctor Danilo Malsano are, fortunately, rare. Their astounding gifts, which they use in a distorted form, make detection difficult, and escape easy. To his mind it did not appear brutal to involve a beautiful young girl in a nest of criminal intrigue. A day or two after the sudden disappearance of uncle and niece, the quiet little town of Bordighera was made more attractive by the figure of a wistful-looking girl, who gazed across the deep-blue sea. Bordighera does not possess the fashionable and extravagantly gowned appearance of Nice. There is less of glitter, less of glare than in most of the towns of the Riviera. Gilda had come here hoping to attract no attention by reason of the comparative obscurity of the place. Instead of staying at an hotel, she had found lodgings in an obscure street.