cabs, and without her it was an arduous matter for the Dean to arrive at
any destination whatever. As it was, in the journey from Paris he had
lost one of the two bags which Mrs. Winston had packed for him, and he
looked remorsefully at the survivor as it was deposited on the steps
beside him.

It did not, however, remain on the steps. For when Lady Alice's
maid-housekeeper appeared, she informed the Dean, with a certain flurry
of manner, that the ladies were not at home. They had gone off that
morning--suddenly--to Venice, leaving a letter for him, should he
arrive.

"<i>Fermate!</i>" cried the Dean, turning towards the cab, which was trailing
away, and the man, who had been scandalously overpaid, came back with
alacrity, while the Dean stepped in to read the letter.

When he came out again he was very pale and in a great haste. He bade
the man replace the bag and drive him at once to the railway-station.

On the way thither he murmured to himself, "Horrible!--horrible!"--and
both the letter and a newspaper which had been enclosed in it shook in
his hands.

He had half an hour to wait before the advent of the evening train for
Venice, and he spent it in a quiet corner poring over the newspaper. And
not that newspaper only, for he presently became aware that all the
small, ill-printed sheets offered him by an old newsvender in the
station were full of the same news, and some with later detail--nay,
that the people walking up and down in the station were eagerly talking
of it.

An Englishman had been assassinated in Venice. It seemed that a body had
been discovered early on the preceding morning floating in one of the
small canals connecting the Fondamente Nuove with the Grand Canal. It
had been stabbed in three places; two of the wounds must have been
fatal. The papers in the pocket identified the murdered man as the
famous English traveller, poet, and journalist, Mr. Geoffrey Cliffe. Mr.
Cliffe had just returned from an arduous winter in the Balkans, where he
had rendered superb service to the cause of the Bosnian insurgents. He
was well known in Venice, and the terrible event had caused a profound
sensation there. No clew to the outrage had yet been obtained. But Mr.
Cliffe's purse and watch had not been removed.

The Dean arrived in Venice by the midnight train, and went to the hotel
on the Riva whither Lady Alice had directed him. She was still up,
waiting to see him, and in the dark passage outside Kitty's