"Have you ever seen this in Ventin's possession?" he asked. "No," replied Monteith, casting a careless glance at it. "But, then, I never was in his cabin. We sat next to one another in the saloon at meals, and talked together a good deal. Beyond the story I told you I know nothing about his life." "Excuse me putting the question to you again; but do you really think this Maltese wife killed him?" "Well, of course, I can't say for certain, but it looks very black against her. She wrote and told him she would kill him." "Oh!" interrupted the captain, "did he show you the letter?" "No; but it might be among his private papers, which you will of course take charge of." "Yes; I will look over his things to-night. But go on." "Well, he goes on shore at Valletta, sees his wife, who recognises him, comes back, she follows, hears the number of his cabin, and kills him." "And then?" "Well, the question is easy to answer. She must have committed the crime before nine o'clock, and escaped on shore in the confusion, or----" "Well." "She must be still on the boat. What passengers came on board at Valletta?" "I ascertained that when I heard your story this morning--two only." "Maltese or English?" "The former. Marchese Matteo Vassalla is the name of one, and the other is Miss Cotoner--both cousins." "Do you think she is the wife of Ventin?" asked Ronald, eagerly. "How the deuce do I know?" said Templeton, quickly; "I never saw her before!" "What age should you think she was?" "About twenty-four or five." "Women's appearances are so deceptive." "What the deuce are you driving at?" asked the captain, annoyed. "I know the exact age of the Maltese wife." "How so?" "Ventin told me he was forty years of age, and that he was twenty when he started his career in London; he said he had thirteen years of fast living there, so in order to be forty now, seven years must have elapsed since his marriage." "But what has this got to do with the age of his wife?" "Everything; he said his wife was twenty-three years of age when he met her first; that by my argument must have been seven years ago, so to-day his wife must be thirty years of age--now is this new passenger thirty?" "No, I'm certain she isn't; besides, the Marchese told me his cousin and himself stayed on deck till the vessel started." "Oh!" said Ronald, thoughtfully, "so that disposes of this young lady, it cannot be she, but the Marchese might help us." "I don't think so; he wouldn't know Ventin." "Perhaps not, but he might know Mrs. Ventin, as he lives at Valletta, and the whole affair might be sifted to the bottom; but oh hang it, I forgot," broke off Monteith in dismay, "Ventin was not his real name." "Heavens, you don't say so! Then what was it?" "He did not tell me."