“Yet he threatens--or at least warns you of peril--if you should become the wife of this wealthy m’sieur! Ah! there seems some very deep motive; but what it really is we must seek to discover. When we have found it we shall have, I feel confident, a clue to the murderer of M’sieur Thorne.” “But there is still another rather curious fact,” I went on, now determined to conceal nothing. “He declared that it was necessary for my well-being that I should return to London, and there meet some person who would visit me on the second of next June.” “Ah! And you intend keeping that appointment, I presume.” “I intend to do nothing of the kind,” I replied with a laugh. “The affair is a very ugly one, and I have no desire whatever that my name should be linked further with it.” “Of course. I quite understand the annoyance caused to mademoiselle. It is sufficient to have one’s friend murdered in that unaccountable manner without being pestered by mysterious individuals who mask themselves and prophesy all sorts of unpleasant things if their orders are not obeyed. Did you promise to go to London?” “I said I would consider the advisability of doing so.” “You were diplomatic--eh?” he said with a laugh. “It is unfortunate this fellow has slipped through our fingers so cleverly, very unfortunate.” “But if he is known to you there will surely not be much difficulty in rediscovering him?” “Ah! that’s just the question, you see. We are not absolutely certain as to his identity.” Then after a slight pause he glanced at me and asked suddenly, “Mademoiselle has a friend--or had a friend--named Cameron--a M’sieur Ernest Cameron? Is that so?” I think I must have blushed beneath the pieces of black velvet that hid my cheeks. “That is correct,” I stammered. “Why?” “The reason is unimportant,” he answered carelessly. “The fact is written in the papers concerning the case, and we like always to verify facts in such a case as this--that’s all.” “But he has no connection with the tragic affair,” I hastened to declare. “I haven’t spoken to him for nearly two years--we have been apart for quite that time.” “Of course,” said the man reassuringly. “The fact has nothing to do with the matter. I merely referred to it in order to gain confirmation of our information. You mentioned something of a proposed yachting cruise. What did this mysterious individual say regarding that?” “He warned me not to go on board the Vispera----” “The Vispera?” he interrupted. “The owner of the yacht is m’sieur the millionaire, is he not?” I responded in the affirmative. “And this M’sieur Keppel has invited you to go with others on a cruise to Naples?” “Yes. But how did you know that it was to Naples?” I inquired. “All yachts sailing from Nice eastward go to Naples,” he answered, laughing. “I suppose the programme includes a run to the Greek islands, Constantinople, Smyrna, and Tunis--eh?” “I think so, but I have not yet heard definitely.”