"By no means," answered the Professor calmly. "You are the man to do the work. We don't want any police interference. This Hotel Ravenna is probably some cafe, restaurant, or saloon in Soho, frequented by foreigners--a place where, perhaps, a man can get a room for a night or two. You must go quietly, unobtrusively, there; if it's a restaurant, as it's sure to be, or at any rate, a place to which a restaurant is attached, go in and get some sort of a meal, keep your eyes open, find out the proprietor, get into talk with him, see if he knows Luigi Dimambro. All you need is tact, caution, and readiness to adapt yourself to circumstances." Then, when they left Mr. Halfpenny's office he took Selwood aside and gave him certain hints and instructions, and enlarged upon the advantages of finding Dimambro if he was to be found. The Professor himself was enthusiastic about these recent developments, and he succeeded in communicating some of his enthusiasm to Selwood. After all, thought Selwood, as he went to Portman Square to tell Peggie of the afternoon's doings, whatever he did was being done for Peggie; moreover, he was by that time certain that however mean and base Barthorpe Herapath's conduct had been about the will, he was certainly not the murderer of his uncle. If that murderer was to be tracked--why, there was a certain zest, an appealing excitement in the tracking of him that presented a sure fascination to youthful spirits. That evening found Selwood, quietly and unassumingly attired, examining the purlieus of Soho. It was a district of which he knew little, and for half an hour he perambulated its streets, wondering at the distinctly foreign atmosphere. And suddenly he came across the Hotel Ravenna--there it was, confronting him, at the lower end of Dean Street. He drew back and looked it well over from the opposite pavement. The Hotel Ravenna was rather more of a pretentious establishment than Selwood had expected it to be. It was typically Italian in outward aspect. There were the usual evergreen shrubs set in the usual green wood tubs at the entrance; the usual abundance of plate-glass and garish gilt; the usual glimpse, whenever the door opened, of the usual vista of white linen, red plush, and many mirrors; the waiter who occasionally showed himself at the door, napkin in hand, was of the type which Selwood had seen a thousand times under similar circumstances. But all this related to the restaurant--Selwood was more interested that the word "Hotel" appeared in gilt letters over a door at the side of the establishment and was repeated in the windows of the upper storeys. He was half-minded to enter the door at once, and to make a guarded inquiry for Mr. Luigi Dimambro; on reflection he walked across the street and boldly entered the restaurant.