ore, by hook or crook, I'd have dragged in the other woman by the
hair and made her confess."

"I do not doubt it, Colonel," responded Courtlandt, with a dry laugh. "And
that would really have been the end of the story. The heroine of this
rambling tale would then have been absolutely certain of collusion between
the two."

"That is like a woman," the Barone agreed, and he knew something about
them. "And where is this man now?"

"Here," said Courtlandt, pushing back his chair and rising. "I am he." He
turned his back upon them and sought the garden.

Tableau!

"Dash me!" cried the colonel, who, being the least interested personally,
was first to recover his speech.

The Barone drew in his breath sharply. Then he looked at Abbott.

"I suspected it," replied Abbott to the mute question. Since the episode
of that morning his philosophical outlook had broadened. He had fought a
duel and had come out of it with flying colors. As long as he lived he was
certain that the petty affairs of the day were never again going to
disturb him.

"Let him be," was the colonel's suggestion, adding a gesture in the
direction of the casement door through which Courtlandt had gone. "He's as
big a man as Nora is a woman. If he has returned with the determination of
winning her, he will."

They did not see Courtlandt again. After a few minutes of restless
to-and-froing, he proceeded down to the landing, helped himself to the
colonel's motor-boat, and returned to Bellaggio. At the hotel he asked for
the duke, only to be told that the duke and madame had left that morning
for Paris. Courtlandt saw that he had permitted one great opportunity to
slip past. He gave up the battle. One more good look at her, and he would
go away. The odds had been too strong for him, and he knew that he was
broken.

When the motor-boat came back, Abbott and the Barone made use of it also.
They crossed in silence, heavy-hearted.

On landing Abbott said: "It is probable that I shall not see you again
this year. I am leaving to-morrow for Paris. It's a great world, isn't it,
where they toss us around like dice? Some throw sixes and others deuces.
And in this game you and I have lost two out of three."

"I shall return to Rome," replied the Barone. "My long leave of absence is
near its end."

"What in the world can have happened?" demanded Nora, showing the two
notes to Celeste. "Here's Donald going to Paris to-morrow and the Barone
to Rome. They will bid