world to make them happy and so fond of each other, and the poor little lady has to be so sick.”
“They are very happy, you say?” asked Muller carelessly. He had no particular set purpose in following up this inquiry, none but his usual understanding of the fact that a man in his business can never amass too much knowledge, and that it will sometimes happen that a chance bit of information comes in very handy.
The landlord was pleased at the encouragement and continued: “Indeed they are very happy. They’ve only been married two years. The lady comes from a distance, from Graz. Her father is an army officer I believe, and I don’t think she was over-rich. But she’s a very sweet-looking lady and her rich husband is very fond of her, any one can see that.”
“You said just now that they had gone away, where have they gone to?”
“They’ve gone to Italy, sir. Mrs. Thorne was one of the few people who do not know Venice. Franz, that’s the butler, sir, told me yesterday evening that he had received a telegram saying that the lady and gentleman had arrived safely and were very comfortably fixed in the Hotel Danieli. You know Danieli’s?”
“Yes, I do. I also was one of the few people who did not know Venice, that is I was until two years ago. Then, however, I had the pleasure of riding over the Bridge of Mestre,” answered Muller. He did not add that he was not alone at the time, but had ridden across the long bridge in company with a pale haggard-faced man who did not dare to look to the right or to the left because of the revolver which he knew was held in the detective’s hand under his loose overcoat. Muller’s visit to Venice, like most of his journeyings, had been one of business. This time to capture and bring home a notorious and long sought embezzler. He did not volunteer any of this information, however, but merely asked in a politely interested manner whether the landlord himself had been to Venice.
“Yes, indeed,” replied the latter proudly. “I was head waiter at Baner’s for two years.”
“Then you must make me some Italian dishes soon,” said Muller. Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Franz, the old butler of the house opposite.
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