conversation with Mark Brendon and
cross-questioned Doria; but their information did not inspire him to
a suggestion and, after twenty-four hours, it was clear that the
little man could be of no assistance to anybody. He was frightened
and awe-stricken. He detested "Crow's Nest" and the melancholy
murmur of the sea. He showed the keenest desire to return home at
the earliest opportunity and was exceedingly nervous after dark.

"Oh, that Peter Ganns were here!" he exclaimed again and again, as a
comment to every incident unfolded by Brendon or Jenny; and then,
when she asked him if it might be possible to summon Peter Ganns,
Mr. Redmayne explained that he was an American beyond their reach at
present.

"Mr. Ganns," he said, "is my best friend in the world--save
and excepting one man only. He--my first and most precious
intimate--dwells at Bellagio, on the opposite side of Lake Como from
myself. Signor Virgilio Poggi is a bibliophile of European eminence
and the most brilliant of men--a great genius and my dearest
associate for twenty-five years. But Peter Ganns also is a very
astounding person--a detective officer by profession--but a man of
many parts and full of such genuine understanding of humanity that
to know him is to gain priceless insight.

"I myself lack that intimate knowledge of character which is his
native gift. Books I know better than men, and it was my peculiar
acquaintance with books that brought Ganns and me together in New
York. There I served him well in an amazing police case and aided
him to prove a crime, the discovery of which turned upon a certain
paper manufactured for the Medici. But a greater thing than this
criminal incident sprang from it; and that is my friendship with the
wonderful Peter. Not above half a dozen books have taught me more
than that man. He is a Machiavelli on the side of the angels."

He expatiated upon Mr. Peter Ganns until his listeners wearied of
the subject. Then Giuseppe Doria intervened with a personal problem.
He desired to be dismissed and was anxious to learn from Brendon if
the law permitted him to leave the neighbourhood.

"For my part," he said, "it is an ill wind that blows good to
nobody. I am anxious to go to London if there is no objection."

He found himself detained, however, for some days, until an official
examination of the strange problem was completed. The investigation
achieved nothing and threw no ray of light, either upon the apparent
murd