"Delighted to see you, dear lady. I have just met Mosenstein, who always arranges the programme. There are not so many stars as usual to-night, but he promises us some very good music." While he was speaking the young Italian took stock of the great financier. A massive head, surmounted with a mass of snow-white hair, a patriarchal beard of the same hue, a tall, sturdy figure. Nello guessed his age at seventy, but the brightness of his glance, the upright form, gave little sign of age. He went by the evidence of the snow-white hair and beard. After a brief conversation the Countess turned to young Corsini. "This gentleman wishes to make your acquaintance, Baron. Signor Nello Corsini. You will no doubt remember him at the last Covent Garden Concert." The Baron held out his hand and his smile was very kindly. "I recollect you well, Signor. You played very beautifully; you took the place of Bauquel, who played our good friend Degraux a rather scurvy trick." Nello bowed. He felt very embarrassed. The Countess had discreetly turned her head, so as not to appear to listen to their conversation. The young violinist had, no doubt, something of a private nature to impart. "I have taken advantage of the Countess's kindness to make your acquaintance, Baron. The fact is, I have in my possession a letter addressed to you, a few days before his death, by a friend of mine, a Monsieur Péron. Did you know anybody of that name?" "Péron, Péron!" repeated the Baron, then he shook his snow-white head. "No; that name recalls nobody to me." "I have reason to believe it was an assumed one and that he was a great friend of yours some years ago. I am charged to deliver it personally into your hands." The bright eyes took on an alert expression. "You have not got it with you, I suppose?" "No, sir, I would not risk carrying it about with me. Would it be possible for me to see you at your office, or anywhere else, for a few moments?" The Baron thought a second. "Certainly. Come to Old Broad Street to-morrow morning, say at eleven o'clock. Please be punctual, as my day is pretty well cut up with appointments." "At eleven to the minute, sir," was Corsini's answer. After a few minutes' chat with the Countess, in which he tactfully included the young violinist, the Baron pursued his tour of the drawing-rooms, exchanging numerous greetings, for he knew every artist in London. CHAPTER VII The next morning Corsini presented himself at the palatial premises in Old Broad Street where the Baron evolved his vast financial schemes. After he had waited in an anteroom for a couple of minutes, a slim young man, who looked like a confidential secretary, appeared from an inner apartment, and led him down a long corridor to Salmoros's private sanctum.