"Ah no, Signor, I speak the English well, thanks be to the saints. My padrona was fond of speaking the English. So, we will talk Signor Dottore." Herrick acquiesced with a shrug. He was quite prepared to talk any language she chose provided he got what he wanted. He was not very certain how to go about the matter. Petronella was a shy bird, and inclined to be obstinate. He felt his way in a round-about fashion, so as to take her by surprise. "You will be glad to get back to Italy Petronella?" "Si! Si. To the little town by the Adriatic. There I was born Signor, and there will I die--if I die not here. Ah Dio!" "You are in pain I fear?" Petronella shrugged her lean shoulders "I am always in pain," she said, "my legs and body--all pain. But the padrona left me something to take thanks be to her, povera signora, and the pain goes." "Not chloral, I hope?" "Si Signor. A little bottle of chloral. I take not much, only when I am bad, so bad. Then the pain goes." "Be careful what you do Petronella. Remember your mistress died from taking too much." "I shall be careful," muttered the old woman, "eh Dio mio! what does it matter if I die? All alone in this big house, and Signor Stefano away." "You saw him the other day he told me," said Dr. Jim carefully approaching his business, "he told me you had some message for me." Petronella nodded and screwed up her thin lips. "Only when he is in danger Signor. Not now. He is too well." "What do you mean Petronella?" asked Herrick puzzled by her nods. "Signor Dottore," said Petronella standing very straight, "my padrona before she died called to me. She gave me a large letter, and told me to give it to the Signor Dottore when Signor Stefano was in danger." "Oh!" Herrick's eyes flashed. He had always wondered how it was that Mrs. Marsh had died without making any sign. After the conversation she had had with him he quite expected that she would have left him a farewell message. It appeared that she had done so, but that the letter had been withheld by Petronella, according to instructions. "When did she write this Petronella? You said nothing about it at the time." "No. I did what I was told to do Signor. Ecco Signor Dottore, it was in this way. After my padrona got the letter from the postman in the middle of the day, she was very angry and afraid." "Afraid! Why was she afraid?" "Chi lo sa," shrugged Petronella, "she said nothing to me. But she told me to bring pen and ink and paper. All the afternoon she was writing. Eh, how she did write! Then she put all the writing into an envelope Signor, and wrote our name on it. She told me to give it to the Signor Dottore when Signor Stefano was in danger. She said the Signor Dottore was a good man." I give it to you Signor, but not now; "No," and Petronella closing her mouth firmly shook her aged head. "I think you had better give it to me this very minute Petronella," said Herrick rising, "for Signor Stefano is in very great danger indeed!"