life, but now I know there are no more worth seeing.”

“And did you fathom the lady’s charms so quickly–in the one short hour at the Palazzo?” I asked, a little spitefully, I am afraid.

“Fathom? Certainly not. But the vivid impressions of the hour may be deepened by the careful and delightful study of a week.”

I stood quite still.

“Of a week?” I stammered.

“Of a week, my friend,” he cried, enjoying his triumph. “For you must know that I have seen much of the fascinating Mrs. Gordon and her adorable niece at Bellagio. I happen to have a villa there.”

At Bellagio! I drew in a deep breath, and it seemed to stab me. I had been wrapped up in the vain pursuit of a shadow, while that magnificent brute at my side, twirling his mustache up into his eyes, had been in the very presence of the goddess. I could not speak. I hope it was not jealousy that gnawed at my heart. Indeed, it was not jealousy at all, I think. It was rather fear–fear for my dear Jacqueline. Not simply 107that she was to be won from me–had already been won from me, perhaps. If one whom I respected had gained her love, I do not think I should have cried out. But this Duke da Sestos! I trembled for her happiness. I knew that Jacqueline’s aunt was the duke’s ally. And Jacqueline herself? Women are at once so subtle and so dense. I have seen the noblest of them deceived by a charming manner–the cleverest wedded to a villain or a fool.

107

We reached the Imperial Library. The clock on a neighboring tower was striking ten when the doors of the Library opened and the director came out. I raised my hat. He returned my greeting courteously, and informed me that the book I wished was at last at my disposal. Unfortunately he mentioned it by name.

“And what interest has Mr. Hume in automaton clocks?” demanded the duke, when the director had turned his back.

I shrugged my shoulders, and bade him good afternoon.

“Mr. Hume, a moment, if you please.”

I turned.

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