uld you not warn the police about Uncle
Robert and give them a description of him?"

"I'm not sure as to that. We will consider to-morrow. I little like
the ways of the Italian police."

"You might have watchers here to-night, ready to take him if he
appears," suggested Jenny.

But Albert finally decided against giving any information.

"For the moment I shall do nothing. We will see what another morning
may bring forth. To feel this awful presence suddenly so close is
very distressing and I do not want to think of him any more until
to-morrow. Write the letters and then we will put a few things
together and cross the lake before it is evening."

"You do not fear for your books, Uncle Albert?"

"No, I have no fear for my books. If there is a homicidal being
here, intent upon my life, he will not look to the right or the
left. Even when he was sane, poor Robert never knew anything about
books or their value. He will not seek them--nor could he reach them
if he did."

"Did he ever visit you here in the past? Does he know Italy?" she
said.

"So far as I am aware he was never here in his life. Certainly he
never visited me. It is, in fact, so many years since I have seen
him that I might have met him and failed to recognize the unhappy
man."

Jenny wrote the letters and posted them; then she packed for her
uncle and herself and presently, having warned Assunta and Ernesto
that no stranger must be admitted until his return on the following
day, Albert Redmayne prepared to cross the lake. First, however, he
locked and barred his library and transferred half a dozen volumes
more than commonly precious to a steel safe aloft in his bedroom.

A boatman quickly rowed them to the landing stage of Bellagio and
they soon reached the dwelling of Albert's friend, who welcomed them
with an equal measure of surprise and delight.

Signor Poggi, a small, fat man with a bald head, broad brow, and
twinkling eyes, grasped their hands and listened with wonder to the
reason for their arrival. He knew English and always delighted in
the practice of that language when opportunity offered.

"But this is beyond belief!" he said. "An enemy for Alberto! Who
should be his enemy--he who is the friend of every man? What romance
is this, Signora Jenny, that throws danger into the path of your
dear uncle?"

"It is the sudden threat and terror of my vanished brother,"
explained Mr. Redmayne. "You are familiar, Virgilio, with the
terrible