“I shall not allow you to leave here until I have finished,” he answered determinedly. “You think that I am not in earnest, but I tell you I am. Your whole future depends upon your acceptance of my suggestion.” “And what is your suggestion, pray?” “That you should no longer regard old Mr. Keppel as your possible husband.” “I have never regarded him as such,” I responded with a contemptuous laugh. “But supposing that I did,--supposing that he offered me marriage,--what then?” “Then a disaster would fall upon you. It is of that disaster that I come here to-night to warn you,” he said, speaking quickly in a hoarse, thick voice. “Recollect that you must never become his wife--never.” “If I did, what harm could possibly befall me?” I inquired eagerly, for the stranger’s prophetic words were, to say the least, curious. He was silent for a moment, then said slowly,-- “Remember the harm that befell Reginald Thorne.” “What?” I cried in alarm, “death?” “Yes,” he answered solemnly, “death.” I stood before him for a moment breathless. “Then, to put it plainly,” I said in an uneven voice, “I am threatened with death should I marry Benjamin Keppel.” “Even to become betrothed to him would be fatal,” he answered. “And by whom am I thus threatened?” “That is a question I cannot answer. I am here merely to warn you, not to give explanations.” “But the person who takes such an extraordinary interest in my private affairs must have some motive for this threat.” “Of course.” “What is it?” “How can I tell? It is not myself who is threatening you. I have only given you warning.” “There is a reason, then, why I should not marry Mr. Keppel?” “There is even a reason why you should in future refuse to accept his invitations to the Villa Fabron,” my strange companion replied. “You have been invited to form one of a party on board the Vispera, but for your personal safety I would presume to advise you not to go.” “I shall assuredly please myself,” I replied. “These threats will certainly not deter me from acting just as I think proper. If I go upon a cruise with Mr. Keppel and his son I shall have no fear of my personal safety.” “Reginald Thorne was young and athletic. He had no fear. But he disobeyed a warning, and you know the result.” “Then you wish me to decline Mr. Keppel’s invitation and remain in Nice?” “I urge you for several reasons to decline his invitation, but I do not suggest that you should remain in Nice. I am the bearer of instructions to you. If you carry them out they will be distinctly to your benefit.” “What are they?” “To-day,” he said, “is the eighteenth of February. Those who have your welfare at heart desire that you should, after the Riviera season is over, go to London, arriving there on the first of June next. You are familiar with London, of course?” “Yes,” I replied. This stranger seemed vastly well informed regarding my antecedents.