"Perhaps," Romanelli answered in a dry, dubious tone. "I, however, confess myself sanguine of our success. Certainly you, as an English country doctor, who is half Italian, and who has practised for years among the English colony in Florence, have but very little to fear. You are eminently respectable." The men exchanged smiles. Romanelli glanced at his ring, and thought the ancient blue scarabaeus had grown darker--a precursory sign of evil. "Yes," answered Malvano, with deliberation, "I know I've surrounded myself with an air of the most severe respectability, and I flatter myself that the people here little dream of my true position; but that doesn't effect the serious turn events appear to be taking. We have enemies, my dear fellow--bitter enemies--in Florence, and as far as I can discern, there's absolutely no way of propitiating them. We are, as you know, actually within an ace of success, yet this girl can upset all our plans, and make English soil too sultry for us ever to tread it again." A second time he glanced around his comfortable dining-room, and sighed at the thought of having to fly from that quiet rural spot where he had so ingeniously hidden himself. "It was to tell me this, I suppose, that you wired this morning?" his guest said. The other nodded, adding, "I had a letter last night from Paolo. He has seen Vittorina at Livorno. She's there for the sea-bathing." "What did she say?" "That she intended to travel straight to London." "She gave him no reason, I suppose?" Arnoldo asked anxiously. "Can we not easily guess the reason?" the Doctor replied. "If you reflect upon the events of that memorable night, you will at once recognise that she should be prevented from coming to this country." "Yes. You are right," Romanelli observed in a tone of conviction. "I see it all. We are in peril. Vittorina must not come." "Then the next point to consider is how we can prevent her," the Doctor said. A silence, deep and complete, fell between them. The trees rustled, the clock ticked slowly and solemnly, and the nightingale filled the air with its sweet note. "The only way out of the difficulty that I can see is for me to hazard everything, return to Livorno, and endeavour by some means to compel her to remain in Italy." "But can you?" Romanelli shrugged his shoulders. "There is a risk, of course, but I'll do my best," he answered. "If I fail--well, then the game's up, and you must fly." "I would accompany you to Italy," exclaimed the other, "but, as you are aware, beyond Modane the ground is too dangerous." "Do you think they suspect anything at the Embassy?" "I cannot tell. I called the other day when in London, and found the Ambassador quite as cordial as usual." "But if he only knew the truth?"