“I have no baggage,” I responded. “Only see that I get something to eat, and buy me a novel--Italian--French--anything will do, and also some newspapers.” “Sisignorina.” And the door was closed. Five minutes later, just as the train was gliding out of Turin, the man returned with a couple of novels and half-a-dozen of those four-paged badly printed Italian newspapers, and with them I managed to while away the long, tedious hours as we sped through Susa and the beautiful Alpine valleys. From time to time my companion looked in to see how I was, offering to do anything for me that she could; then she returned to old Keppel, who was sitting on one of the little flap-seats in the corridor smoking. “The woman in with me is rather young and quite charming,” I heard her say to him. “She’s been taken queer this morning. I expect the heat has upset her, poor thing! The berths here are very hot and close.” “Horribly! I was nearly asphyxiated,” he answered. Then, about half-an-hour later, I recognized his voice again. He was evidently standing with his companion close to the door of my compartment. “We shall be in Paris about half-past eight to-morrow morning, it seems,” he said. “And the Vispera will be awaiting you at Naples?” she laughed. “Davis is quite used to my erratic movements,” he answered. “A reputation for eccentricity is very useful sometimes.” “But shall you rejoin her?” He hesitated. “I think it is most unlikely,” he responded. “I’ve had enough of cruising. You too must be very tired of it.” “Tired!” she cried. “Imprisoned in that cabin all day long, with the windows closed and curtained, I felt that if it lasted much longer I must go mad. Besides, it was only by a miracle that I was not discovered a dozen times.” “But, very fortunately, you were not,” he said. “And all to no purpose,” she observed in a tone of weariness and discontent. “Ah! that’s quite another matter--quite another matter.” “I do wish that you would satisfy my curiosity and tell me what occurred on the night before we landed,” she said. “You know what I mean.” She evidently referred to the attempt upon her life. “Well,” he responded in hesitation, “I myself am not quite clear as to what took place. I entered the cabin, you know, and found you lying unconscious.” “Yes, I know. I was thrown violently down by a sudden lurching of the ship, and must have struck my head against something,” she replied. “But afterwards I remember experiencing a most curious sensation in my throat, just as though some one with strong, sinewy fingers were trying to strangle me. I have the marks there now.” “Absurd!” he laughed. “It was only your imagination. The close confinement in that place together with the rolling of the ship had caused you a little light-headedness, without a doubt.” “But it was more than imagination, of that I feel certain. There was blood upon my lips, you remember.” “Because in falling you had cut your lower lip. I can see the place now.”