Pagliadini was probably one of these, and he would not be likely to admit easily that he had been mistaken in the two men. Still, if he was to stay in the neighbourhood, a meeting was inevitable, and it had better take place as early as possible. Ladywell Manor was as good a spot as could be chosen, for a man in his own house feels himself in a better position than he can do elsewhere. On the whole, Tor considered that Maud had done well to invite the stranger to visit him this same afternoon. He contrived without any difficulty that Maud and Mrs. Lorraine should be out driving when the Italian appeared; and he received him alone in the small drawing-room, with an ease and friendliness of manner which did him great credit. Yes, he certainly had known this man somewhere. The first glance showed him so much. He could not recall the circumstances of their former meeting, but there was something undoubtedly familiar in the face, and in the voice too, as soon as the stranger spoke. Signor Pagliadini entered, and glanced round him in a manner which seemed a trifle disconcerted. Then he smiled, and took Tor’s proffered hand. ‘I fear I have misunderstood my friends, Signor Torwood. I believed it was my friend Filippo I was to see here. They said you were ill. I am delighted to see you so far recovered. You are no doubt a guest here of the Signor Debenham.’ ‘On the contrary, Signor, I am the master here—Philip Debenham. Mr. Torwood is certainly ill, I am sorry to say; but I am not he.’ The Signor received this piece of intelligence with a little smile and shrug. ‘The Signor is pleased to joke,’ he said. ‘Is it that we are masquerading?’ ‘No, Signor; any masquerading that went on was in old days, when my friend Torwood and I used to change names with one another in a foolish, boyish fashion, which now I regret. You may have known my friend under the name of Debenham, but he was really Torwood; and I am Philip Debenham.’ Tor spoke quietly and firmly; but he did not like the gleam of distrust that sparkled in the stranger’s eyes. Even the tinted glasses did not conceal from Tor the glance of astonishment and disdain which was undoubtedly shot at him. It was evident that this man might be dangerous, and it behoved Tor to act towards him with all the firmness and acuteness which lay in his power. ‘You are perplexed, I see, Signor, by my statement,’ he said courteously. ‘I am, Signor.’ ‘But why so, may I ask? Is it not enough when I tell you that I and my friend were more than once foolish and thoughtless enough to change our names one for the other? The whole matter lies there, if you can but see it.’ Signor Pagliadini made a little deprecating foreign bow, as if to apologize for any doubt he might cast upon his host’s veracity; but all his grace of manner could not hide from Tor the distinctly menacing look in those half-concealed eyes of his.