been asleep and he had rudely awakened her. His infatuation
blinded him to the truth; he saw in the look a feminine desire to throw
the others off the track as to the sentiment expressed in his whispered
words.

The hour passed tolerably well. Herr Rosen then observed the time, rose
and excused himself. He took the steps leading abruptly down the terrace
to the carriage road. He had come by the other way, the rambling stone
stairs which began at the porter's lodge, back of the villa.

"Padre," whispered Courtlandt, "I am going. Do not follow. I shall explain
to you when we meet again."

The padre signified that he understood. Harrigan protested vigorously, but
smiling and shaking his head, Courtlandt went away.

Nora ran to the window. She could see Herr Rosen striding along, down the
winding road, his head in the air. Presently, from behind a cluster of
mulberries, the figure of another man came into view. He was going at a
dog-trot, his hat settled at an angle that permitted the rain to beat
squarely into his face. The next turn in the road shut them both from
sight. But Nora did not stir.

Herr Rosen stopped and turned.

"You called?"

"Yes." Courtlandt had caught up with him just as Herr Rosen was about to
open the gates. "Just a moment, Herr Rosen," with a hand upon the bars. "I
shall not detain you long."

There was studied insolence in the tones and the gestures which
accompanied them.

"Be brief, if you please."

"My name is Edward Courtlandt, as doubtless you have heard."

"In a large room it is difficult to remember all the introductions."

"Precisely. That is why I take the liberty of recalling it to you, so that
you will not forget it," urbanely.

A pause. Dark patches of water were spreading across their shoulders.
Little rivulets ran down Courtlandt's arm, raised as it was against the
bars.

"I do not see how it may concern me," replied Herr Rosen finally with an
insolence more marked than Courtlandt's.

"In Paris we met one night, at the stage entrance of the Opera, I pushed
you aside, not knowing who you were. You had offered your services; the
door of Miss Harrigan's limousine."

"It was you?" scowling.

"I apologize for that. To-morrow morning you will leave Bellaggio for
Varenna. Somewhere between nine and ten the fast train leaves for Milan."

"Varenna! Milan!"

"Exactly. You speak English as naturally and fluently as if you were born
to the tongue. Thus, you will leave for