"I'm not Livornese, but I lived there for ten years," the other answered. "I came to London a year ago to learn English, for they said it was impossible to get any sort of good pronunciation in Italy." "I've passed through Pisa hundreds of times, but have only been in Leghorn once or twice," observed the King's messenger. "Charming place. Full of pretty girls." "Ah! yes," cried Romanelli. "The English always admire our Livornesi girls." Tristram paused for a few seconds, then, raising his eyes until they met those of his new acquaintance, asked-- "Do you happen to know a girl there named Fanetti--Gemma Fanetti?" Romanelli started perceptibly, and for an instant held his breath. He was utterly unprepared for this question, and strove vainly not to betray his surprise. "Fanetti," he repeated aloud, as if reflecting. "I think not. It is not a Livornese name." "She lives in Florence, I believe, but always spends the bathing season at Leghorn," Tristram added. His quick eyes had detected the Italian's surprise and anxiety when he had made the unexpected inquiry, and he felt confident that his foppish young friend was concealing the truth. "I've never, to my recollection, met any one of that name," Romanelli answered with well-feigned carelessness. "Is she a lady or merely a girl of the people?" "A lady." "Young?" "Quite. She's engaged to be married to a friend of mine." "Engaged to be married?" the young man repeated with a smile. "Is the man an Englishman?" "Yes, a college chum of mine. He's well off, and they seem a most devoted pair." There was a brief silence. "I have no recollection of the name in Florentine society, and I certainly have never met her in Livorno," Romanelli said. "So she's found a husband? Is she pretty?" "Extremely. The prettiest woman I've ever seen in Italy." "And there are a good many in my country," the Italian said. "The poor girl who died so mysteriously--or who, some say, was murdered--outside the Criterion was very beautiful. I knew her well--poor girl!" "You knew her?" gasped the Captain, in turn surprised. "You were acquainted with Vittorina Rinaldo?" "Yes," replied his companion slowly, glancing at him with some curiosity. "But, tell me," he added after a pause, "how did you know her surname? The London police have failed to discover it?" Frank Tristram's brow contracted. He knew that he had foolishly betrayed himself. In an instant a ready lie was upon his lips. "I was told so in Livorno," he said glibly. "She was Livornese." "Yes," Romanelli observed, only half convinced. "According to the papers, it appears as if she were accompanied by some man from Italy. But her death and her companion's disappearance are alike unfathomable mysteries." "Extraordinary!" the Captain acquiesced. "I've been away so much that I haven't had a chance to read the whole of the details. But the scraps I have read seem remarkably mysterious."