waited ten minutes. Then, my telegram in my hand, I stepped outside the bureau and looked up and down the street. He was not in sight. I waited ten minutes more. Still the duke did not return. My patience was exhausted. I went back to the Library. But when I called for my book, to my extreme astonishment, it was again in use. It had, declared the attendant ungraciously, been reserved for me, but they could not hold it all the morning.

So this Italian duke had tricked me. The telegram was simply a ruse, a clumsy and senseless ruse, if you will, but I had been guileless enough to let it work. But it would not avail him long. Granted that he had delayed my seeing the book, all I had to do was to return in the afternoon. I walked back to my hotel for breakfast.

There the second surprise of the day awaited me. A telegram from Jacqueline had been sent to me to Venice, and retelegraphed to me at St. Petersburg by my housekeeper. It was sufficiently puzzling:

“Please be sure to accept aunt’s invitation for Friday. I am anxious to see you–most anxious. I shall expect you Friday–absolutely.”

I held it in my hand, astonished and perplexed. 112An invitation had been sent to me by Mrs. Gordon to visit her at Bellagio; I was to come on Friday; Jacqueline especially wished to see me. But why? Why should she expect me “absolutely”? Was it possible she had told Mrs. Gordon of my love for her? Dare I put the most favorable meaning into the message? At any rate, if I were to arrive at Bellagio on Friday, I must leave that afternoon. Well, after my breakfast, I could return to the Library, have a look at the monograph on clocks, and still catch the train.

112

But even as I was hurrying to the restaurant, I paused. Was this another of the duke’s tricks, a more elaborate one? A moment’s thought showed that this was most unlikely. I hurried through my meal, and taking a drosky returned to the Library, determined to wait there until I had seen my book.

This time, at any rate, the book was not in use, and in five minutes I had it in my hands.

I turned to consult the index. Apparently there was no index. I went through the volume carefully to find mention of the da Sestos clock, and presently I discovered that fourteen pages of the volume had been completely torn out.

I stared down at the mutilated book. So at last the duke’s game was revealed in its 

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