floor of a gloomy-looking house, of which the ground-floor was
occupied by a public bar and refreshment-room. The waiters were German
or French, and the cookery was distinctly foreign in flavour. There was
a touch of garlic in every dish, which Dino found acceptable, and which
was not without its charm for Hugo Luttrell.

Dessert was placed upon the table, and with it a flask of some old
Italian wine, which looked to Dino as if it had come straight from the
cellars of the monastery at San Stefano. "It is our wine," he said, with
a smile. "It looks like an old friend."

"I thought that you would appreciate it," said Hugo, with a laugh, as he
rose and poured the red wine carelessly into Dino's glass. "It is too
rough for me; but I was sure that you would like it."

He poured out some for himself and raised the glass, but he scarcely
touched it with his lips. His eyes were fixed upon his guest.

Dino smiled, praised his host's thoughtfulness, and swallowed a mouthful
or two of the wine; then set down his glass.

"There is something wrong with the flavour," he said: "something a
little bitter."

"Try it again," said Hugo, averting his eyes. "I thought it very good.
At any rate, it is harmless: one may drink any amount of it without
doing oneself an injury."

"Yes, but this is curiously coarse in flavour," persisted Dino. "One
would think that it was mixed with some other spirit or cordial. But I
must try it again."

He drained his glass. Hugo refilled it immediately, but soon perceived
that it was needless to offer his guest a second draught. Dino raised
his hand to his brow with a puzzled gesture, and then spoke confusedly.

"I do not know how it is," he said. "I am quite dizzy--I cannot
see--I----"

His eyes grew dim: his hands fell to his sides, and his head upon his
breast. He muttered a few incoherent words, and then sank into silence,
broken only by the sound of his heavy breathing and something like an
occasional groan. Hugo watched him carefully, and smiled to himself now
and then. In a short time he rose, emptied the remainder of the wine in
the flask into Dino's glass, rinsed out the flask with clear water, then
poured the dregs, as well as the wine in the glasses, into the mould of
a large flower-pot that stood in a corner of the room. "Nobody can tell
any tales now, I think," said Hugo, with a triumphant, disagreeable
smile. And then he called the waiter and paid his bill--as if he were a
temporary v