"Yes, but naturally he refused to divulge the secrets of the confessional. He declared, however, it had no bearing on the crime, and could not in any way help towards the discovery of the murderer, and with that we had to be content. Legal procedure is carried on at Rivoli in a fashion different from what it is in England. Father Ignatius is _the_ great man of the town, and he would be a bold magistrate who would dare to question him too closely. The reverend padre would think nothing of excommunicating him next Sunday from the altar with bell, book, and candle, and the people of Rivoli would approve, so devoted are they to him." "It is certainly a mysterious business," said Sir Hugh, "and one more so never came within my experience. At any rate, let us hope your suspicions are unfounded, and that Captain Willard was not at Rivoli as you suppose." "Remember, Leslie," he said a day or two later, "you are not to spend Christmas at your London house. The place and the time of the year would only serve to recall your daughter's grief on the very day when she should be most happy. You must come to the Abbey and help me to burn the Yule log. There will be more than fifty guests, so you will hardly be dull. My niece, Florrie, will be just the companion for Miss Daphne, so you must make no excuses." And he parted from us at Cologne on the understanding that we were to pass our Christmas-tide at Silverdale Abbey. Once removed from Rivoli and its weird associations Daphne rapidly recovered her health and spirits, and we spent the summer exploring the beauties of the Rhineland. When we returned to London, my first care was to obtain a copy of the _Standard_ of July the 2nd, and I turned eagerly to the remainder of the article relating to Vasari's picture, and found the passage referring to the Anglo-Indian office to be as follows:--