McTaggart lifted his cap, with pleased surprise, his loneliness fading before the stranger's smile. "Do you speak French?" He asked in that language. "I'm afraid my Italian's somewhat scanty." "Si, si, Monsieur." Again he raised his hat. Again McTaggart clutched at his cap. "I hope it isn't necessary with every word!" he thought with an Englishman's distaste for ceremony. "A cold night for travelling," the stranger suggested. "Monsieur has come far?" His keen black eyes shone like bright coal in their wrinkled sockets. "From London," said McTaggart with the conscious pride of a tired man at the end of his journey. "I'm bound for Siena," he volunteered. "Is it generally as cold as this in Italy?" The old man smiled. "It is Winter still, Monsieur. What would you have?" He spread out his hands. "In Siena we are high ... altis ... simo! But healthy--one gets few fevers there. Monsieur is 'en touriste'?" His gentle curiosity was freed from all impertinence by his charming manner. "No--not exactly. I'm going there on business." McTaggart paused a moment, then made up his mind. "I've inherited a property from my mother's brother. He was killed in an accident, near Rome, with his sons." The effect on his audience was electrical. "But, Monsieur!" ... he stuttered--"e impossibile!--Monsieur is not the English Milord?--the new Marchese Maramonte?" For the third time off came his hat. "I'm afraid so." Peter laughed outright. For the old man, wiry and light, was on his feet, bowing before him with a deferential air. "My humble 'felicitations' to Monsieur le Marquis. His lawyer, Jacopo Vanni--at his service." "No!--really?" McTaggart held out his hand and shook the other's heartily; and by that simple act, unknown to himself, he secured a life-long friend. "You're just the very man I wanted to meet." "We were in despair," Vanni continued, "no news from England when I left yesterday! I have been in Florence on business for the Marchesa, and, I suppose, the message arrived later." "I only wired early this morning. The letter had miscarried and reached me last night. As you see, I have wasted no time in coming!" McTaggart smiled back at the eager old face. "And now, can you tell me some of my new duties? I am anxious to learn the extent of my inheritance and I feel rather like a duck out of water! Not speaking Italian makes it worse. I should really be grateful for any advice." "Monsieur le Marquis does me honour." The bright eyes devoured him, approving his handsome face. "Every inch a Maramonte!" Unconsciously, he spoke aloud. "Really?" McTaggart was interested. "I was always told I resembled my mother."