"The next day we had another rainstorm--regular deluge. This time it came down in sheets; campos running rivers; gondolas half full of water, everything soaked. I had a room in the top of the Palazzo da Mula on the Grand Canal just above the Salute and within a step of the traghetto of San Giglio. By going out of the rear door and keeping close to the wall of the houses skirting the Fondamenta San Zorzi, I could reach the traghetto without getting wet. The Quadri was the nearest caffè, anyhow, and so I started. "When I stepped out of the gondola on the other side of the canal and walked up the wooden steps to the level of the Campo, my mysterious friend moved out from under the shadow of the traghetto box and stood where the light from the lantern hanging in front of the Madonna fell upon his face. His eyes, as usual, were fixed on mine. He had evidently been waiting for me. "I thought I might just as well end the thing then as at any other time. There was no question now in my mind that the fellow meant business. "I turned on him squarely. "'You waiting for me?' "'Yes.' "'What for?' "'I want you to go to dinner with me.' "'Where?' "'Anywhere you say.' "'I don't know you.' "'Yes, that's what I thought you would say.' "'Do you know me?' "'No.' "'Know my name?' "'Yes, your name's Marny.' "'What's yours?' "'Mine's Diffendorfer.' "'Where do you want to dine?' "'Anywhere you say. How will the Quadri do?' "'In a private room?' I said this to see how he would take it. He still stood in the full glare of the lantern. "'No, unless you prefer. I would rather dine downstairs--more people there.' "'All right--lead the way, I'll follow.' "It was the worst night that you ever saw. Hardly a soul in the streets. It had set in for a three days' storm, I knew; we always had them in Venice during December. My friend kept right on without looking behind him or speaking to me; over the bridge, through the Campo San Moisè and so on to the _Piazza_ and the caffè. There were only half a dozen fellows inside when we entered. These greeted me with the yell of welcome we always gave each other on entering, and which this time I didn't return, I knew they would open their eyes when they saw us sit down together, and I didn't want any complications by which I would be obliged to introduce him to anybody. I hated not to be decent, but you see I didn't know but I'd have to hand him over to the police before I was through with him, and I wanted the responsibility of his acquaintance to devolve on me alone. Roscoff either wouldn't or didn't take in the situation, for he came up when we were seated, leaned over my chair, and put his arm around my neck. I saw a shade of disappointment cross my companion's face when I didn't present Roscoff to him, but he said nothing. But I couldn't help it--I didn't see anything else to do. Then again, Roscoff was one of those fellows who would never let you hear the end of it if anything went wrong.