<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="cover" name="cover"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" /></div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h1>'FAREWELL, NIKOLA'</h1>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i001" name="i001"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i001.jpg" alt="i001" /> <p class="caption">"He swept his fingers over the strings ... and commenced to sing." (Page 140.)</p>
</div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<p class="biggest center pb">
'Farewell, Nikola'</p>
<p class="small center pt">BY</p>
<p class="big center">GUY BOOTHBY</p>
<p class="center smaller narrow pb">AUTHOR OF 'DR. NIKOLA,' 'THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL,'
'PHAROS, THE EGYPTIAN,' ETC.</p>
<p class="small center ps"><span class="smcap">Illustrated by Harold Piffard</span></p>
<p class="small center pt">LONDON</p>
<p class="big center">WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED</p>
<p class="small center">NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE</p>
<p class="small center">1901</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
<table class="small" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="4" summary="illustrations">
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdr">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i001">HE SWEPT HIS FINGERS OVER THE STRINGS ... AND
COMMENCED TO SING</SPAN> </td>
<td class="tdr"><i>Frontispiece</i></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i002">HE PRESSED A SPRING IN THE WALL</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">46</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i003">PRESENTLY A PICTURE SHAPED ITSELF IN THE CLOUD</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">100</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i004">THROWING OPEN THE SECRET DOOR ... HE CONFRONTED
THEM</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">177</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i005">HE LAID HIS HAND UPON HER FOREHEAD</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">208</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i006">"PUT DOWN YOUR PISTOLS," SAID NIKOLA</SPAN> </td>
<td class="tdr">249</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i007">HE CRAWLED UPON THE FLOOR LIKE A DOG</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">273</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#i008">SHE KNELT, WITH ARMS OUTSTRETCHED, IN SUPPLICATION</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">306</td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<p class="center biggest">'FAREWELL, NIKOLA'</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></SPAN>CHAPTER I</h2>
<p>We were in Venice; Venice the silent and
mysterious; the one European city of which I
never tire. My wife had not enjoyed good
health for some months past, and for this reason
we had been wintering in Southern Italy. After
that we had come slowly north, spending a
month in Florence, and a fortnight in Rome
<i>en route</i>, until we found ourselves in Venice,
occupying a suite of apartments at Galaghetti's
famous hotel overlooking the Grand Canal.
Our party was a small one; it consisted of my
wife, her friend, Gertrude Trevor, and myself,
Richard Hatteras, once of the South Sea Islands,
but now of the New Forest, Hampshire, England.
It may account for our fondness of Venice when
I say that four years previous we had spent the
greater part of our honeymoon there. Whatever<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</SPAN></span>
the cause may have been, however, there could be
no sort of doubt that the grand old city, with
its palaces and churches, its associations stretching
back to long-forgotten centuries, and its silent
waterways, possessed a great fascination for us.
We were never tired of exploring it, finding
something to interest us in even the most out-of-the-way
corners. In Miss Trevor we possessed
a charming companion, a vital necessity, as you
will admit, when people travel together. She
was an uncommon girl in more ways than one;
a girl, so it seems to me, England alone is able to
produce. She could not be described as a pretty
girl, but then the word "pretty" is one that sometimes
comes perilously near carrying contempt
with it; one does not speak of Venus de Medici
as pretty, nor would one describe the Apollo
Belvedere as very nice-looking. That Miss Trevor
was exceedingly handsome would, I fancy, be
generally admitted. At any rate she would
command attention wherever she might go, and
that is an advantage which few of us possess.
Should a more detailed description of her be
necessary, I might add that she was tall and
dark, with black hair and large luminous eyes
that haunted one, and were suggestive of a
southern ancestor. She was the daughter, and
indeed the only child, of the well-known Dean of
Bedminster, and this was the first time she had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</SPAN></span>
visited Italy, or that she had been abroad. The
wonders of the Art Country were all new to her,
and in consequence our wanderings were one
long succession of delight. Every day added
some new pleasure to her experiences, while each
night saw a life desire gratified.</p>
<p>In my humble opinion, to understand Italy
properly one should not presume to visit her until
after the first blush of youth has departed, and
then only when one has prepared oneself to properly
appreciate her many beauties. Venice,
above all others, is a city that must be taken
seriously. To come at a proper spirit of the place
one must be in a reverent mood. Cheap jokes and
Cockney laughter are as unsuited to the place,
where Falieri yielded his life, as a downcast face
would be in Nice at carnival time. On the afternoon
of the particular day from which I date my
story, we had been to the island of Murano to pay
a visit to the famous glass factories of which it is
the home. By the time we reached Venice once
more it was nearly sunset. Having something
like an hour to spare we made our way, at my
wife's suggestion, to the Florian <i>café</i> on the
piazza of Saint Mark in order to watch the
people. As usual the place was crowded, and
at first glance it looked as if we should be unable
to find sufficient vacant chairs. Fortune favoured
us, however, and when we had seated ourselves<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</SPAN></span>
and I had ordered coffee, we gave ourselves
up to the enjoyment of what is perhaps one of
the most amusing scenes in Venice. To a thoughtful
mind the Great Square must at all times be
an object of absorbing interest. I have seen it at
every hour, and under almost every aspect: at
break of day, when one has it to oneself and is
able to enjoy its beauty undisturbed; at midday,
when the importunate shop-keepers endeavour to
seduce one into entering their doors (by tales of the
marvels therein); at sunset, when the <i>cafés</i> are
crowded, the band plays, and all is merriment;
and last, but not least, at midnight, when the
moon is sailing above Saint Mark's, the square
is full of strange shadows, and the only sound to
be heard is the cry of a gull on the lagoon, or
the "<i>Sa Premi</i>" of some belated gondolier.</p>
<p>"This is the moment to which I have looked
forward all my life," said Miss Trevor, as she sat
back in her chair and watched the animated crowd
before her. "Look at that pretty little boy with
the pigeons flocking round him. What a picture
he would make if one only had a camera."</p>
<p>"If you care to have a photo of him one can
easily be obtained," I remarked. "Any one of
these enterprising photographers would be only
too pleased to take one for you for a few centissimi.
I regret to say that many of our countrymen
have a weakness for being taken in that way."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Fancy Septimus Brown, of Tooting," my wife
remarked, "a typical English paterfamilias, with a
green veil, blue spectacles, and white umbrella,
daring to ask the sun to record his image with the
pigeons of St. Mark's clustering about his venerable
head. Can't you picture the pride of that
worthy gentleman's family when they produce
the album on Sunday afternoons and show it to
their friends? 'This is pa,' the eldest girl will
probably remark, 'when he was travelling in
Venice' (as if Venice were a country in which one
must be perpetually moving on), 'and that's how
the pigeons came down to him to be fed. Isn't
it splendid of him?' Papa, who has never
ventured beyond Brighton beach before, will be
a person of importance from that moment."</p>
<p>"You forget one circumstance, however," Miss
Trevor replied, who enjoyed an argument, and
for this reason contradicted my wife on principle,
"that in allowing himself to be taken at all,
Brown of Tooting has advanced a step. For the
moment he dared to throw off his insularity, as
the picture at which you are laughing is indisputable
testimony. Do you think he would dare to
be photographed in a similar fashion in his own
market-place, standing outside his shop-door with
his assistants watching him from behind the
counter? I am quite sure he would not!"</p>
<p>"A very excellent argument," I answered.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</SPAN></span>
"Unfortunately, however, it carries with it its
own refutation. The mere fact that Brown takes
the photograph home to show to his friends goes a
long way towards proving that he is still as insular
as when he set out. If he did not consider himself
of sufficient importance to shut out a portion of
Saint Mark's with his voluminous personality, he
would not have employed the photographer at
all, in which case we are no further advanced
than before."</p>
<p>These little sparring-matches were a source of
great amusement to us. The Cockney tourist
was Miss Trevor's <i>bête noir</i>. And upon this
failing my wife and I loved to twit her. On
the whole I rather fancy she liked being teased
by us.</p>
<p>We had finished our coffee and were still idly
watching the people about us when I noticed
that my wife had turned a little pale. I was
about to remark upon it, when she uttered an
exclamation as if something had startled her.</p>
<p>"Good gracious! Dick," she cried, "surely it is
not possible. It must be a mistake."</p>
<p>"What is it cannot be possible?" I inquired.
"What do you think you see?"</p>
<p>I glanced in the direction she indicated, but
could recognize no one with whom I was acquainted.
An English clergyman and his daughter
were sitting near the entrance to the <i>café</i>, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</SPAN></span>
some officers in uniform were on the other side of
them again, but still my wife was looking in the
same direction and with an equally startled face.
I placed my hand upon her arm. It was a long
time since I had seen her so agitated.</p>
<p>"Come, darling," I said, "tell me what it is
that troubles you."</p>
<p>"Look," she answered, "can you see the table
a little to the right of that at which those officers
are seated?"</p>
<p>I was about to reply in the affirmative, but the
shock I received deprived me of speech. The
person to whom my wife referred had risen from
his chair, and was in the act of walking towards
us. I looked at him, looked away, and then
looked again. No! there was no room for doubt;
the likeness was unmistakable. I should have
known him anywhere. <i>He was Doctor Nikola</i>;
the man who had played such an important part
in our life's drama. Five years had elapsed since
I had last seen him, but in that time he was
scarcely changed at all. It was the same tall,
thin figure; the same sallow, clean-shaven face;
the same piercing black eyes. As he drew nearer
I noticed that his hair was a little more grey,
that he looked slightly older; otherwise he was
unchanged. But why was he coming to us?
Surely he did not mean to speak to us? After
the manner in which he had treated us in by-gone<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</SPAN></span>
days I scarcely knew how to receive him. He
on his side, however, was quite self-possessed.
Raising his hat with that easy grace that always
distinguished him, he advanced and held out his
hand to my wife.</p>
<p>"My dear Lady Hatteras," he began in his
most conciliatory tone, "I felt sure you would
recognize me. Observing that you had not forgotten
me, I took the liberty of coming to pay
my respects to you."</p>
<p>Then before my wife could reply he had turned
to me and was holding out his hand. For a
moment I had half determined not to take it,
but when his glittering eyes looked into mine I
changed my mind and shook hands with him
more cordially than I should ever have thought
it possible for me to do. Having thus broken the
ice, and as we had to all intents and purposes
permitted him to derive the impression that we
were prepared to forgive the Past, nothing remained
for us but to introduce him to Miss Trevor.
From the moment that he had approached us
she had been watching him covertly, and that
he had produced a decided impression upon her
was easily seen. For the first time since we had
known her she, usually so staid and unimpressionable,
was nervous and ill at ease. The
introduction effected she drew back a little, and
pretended to be absorbed in watching a party of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</SPAN></span>
our fellow-countrymen who had taken their places
at a table a short distance from us. For my
part I do not mind confessing that I was by no
means comfortable. I remembered my bitter
hatred of Nikola in days gone by. I recalled that
terrible house in Port Said, and thought of the
night on the island when I had rescued my wife
from his clutches. In my estimation then he had
been a villain of the deepest dye, and yet here he
was sitting beside me as calm and collected, and
apparently as interested in the <i>résumé</i> of our
travels in Italy that my wife was giving him, as
if we had been bosom friends throughout our lives.
In any one else it would have been a piece of
marvellous effrontery; in Nikola's case, however,
it did not strike one in the same light. As I
have so often remarked, he seemed incapable
of acting like any other human being. His
extraordinary personality lent a glamour to his
simplest actions, and demanded for them an
attention they would scarcely have received
had he been less endowed.</p>
<p>"Have you been long in Venice?" my wife
inquired when she had completed the record of
our doings, feeling that she must say something.</p>
<p>"I seldom remain anywhere for very long," he
answered, with one of his curious smiles. "I
come and go like a Will-o'-the-wisp; I am here
to-day and gone to-morrow."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>It may have been an unfortunate remark, but
I could not help uttering it.</p>
<p>"For instance, you are in London to-day," I
said, "in Port Said next week, and in the South
Sea Islands a couple of months later."</p>
<p>He was not in the least disconcerted.</p>
<p>"Ah! I see you have not forgotten our South
Sea adventure," he replied cheerfully. "How long
ago it seems, does it not? To me it is like a
chapter out of another life." Then, turning to
Miss Trevor, who of course had heard the story
of our dealings with him sufficiently often to be
weary of it, he added, "I hope you are not altogether
disposed to think ill of me. Perhaps some
day you will be able to persuade Lady Hatteras to
forgive me, that is to say if she has not already
done so. Yet I do not know why I should plead
for pardon, seeing that I am far from being in a
repentant mood. As a matter of fact I am very
much afraid that, should the necessity arise, I
should be compelled to act as I did then."</p>
<p>"Then let us pray most fervently that the
necessity may never arise," I answered. "I for
one do not entertain a very pleasant recollection
of that time."</p>
<p>I spoke so seriously that my wife looked sharply
up at me. Fearing, I suppose, that I might
commit myself, she added quickly—</p>
<p>"I trust it may not. For I can assure you,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</SPAN></span>
Doctor Nikola, that my inclinations lie much
nearer Bond Street than the South Sea Islands."</p>
<p>All this time Miss Trevor said nothing, but I
could tell from the expression upon her face that
Nikola interested her more than she would have
been willing to admit.</p>
<p>"Is it permissible to ask where you are staying?"
he inquired, breaking the silence and
speaking as if it were a point upon which he was
most anxious to be assured.</p>
<p>"At Galaghetti's," I answered. "While in
Venice we always make it our home."</p>
<p>"Ah! the good Galaghetti," said Nikola softly.
"It is a long time since I last had the pleasure of
seeing him. I fancy, however, he would remember
me. I was able to do him a slight service some
time ago, and I have always understood that he
possesses a retentive memory."</p>
<p>Then, doubtless feeling that he had stayed
long enough, he rose and prepared to take leave
of us.</p>
<p>"Perhaps, Lady Hatteras, you will permit me
to do myself the honour of calling upon you?"
he said.</p>
<p>"We shall be very pleased to see you," my
wife replied, though with no real cordiality.</p>
<p>He then bowed to Miss Trevor, and shook
hands with myself.</p>
<p>"Good-bye, Hatteras," he continued. "I shall<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</SPAN></span>
hope soon to see you again. I expect we have
lots of news for each other, and doubtless you will
be interested to learn the history and subsequent
adventures of that peculiar little stick which
caused you so much anxiety, and myself so much
trouble, five years ago. My address is the
Palace Revecce, in the Rio del Consiglio, where,
needless to say, I shall be delighted to see you
if you care to pay me a visit."</p>
<p>I thanked him for his invitation, and promised
that I would call upon him.</p>
<p>Then with a bow he took his departure,
leaving behind him a sensation of something
missing, something that could not be replaced.
To sit down and continue the conversation
where he had broken into it was out of the
question. We accordingly rose, and after I had
discharged the bill, strolled across the piazza
towards the lagoon. Observing that Miss Trevor
was still very silent, I inquired the cause.</p>
<p>"If you really want me to tell you, I can
only account for it by saying that your friend,
Doctor Nikola, has occasioned it," she answered.
"I don't know why it should be so, but
that man has made a curious impression upon
me."</p>
<p>"He seems to affect every one in a different
manner," I said, and for some reason made no
further comment upon her speech.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>When we had called a gondola, and were on
our way back to our hotel, she referred to the
subject again.</p>
<p>"I think I ought to tell you that it is not the
first time I have seen Doctor Nikola," she said.
"You may remember that yesterday, while Phyllis
was lying down, I went out to do some shopping.
I cannot describe exactly which direction I took,
save that I went towards the Rialto. It is
sufficient that in the end I reached a chemist's
shop. It was only a small place, and very
dark, so dark indeed that I did not see that it
contained another customer until I was really
inside. Then I noticed a tall man busily engaged
in conversation with the shopman. He was
declaiming against some drugs he had purchased
there on the previous day, and demanding that
for the future they should be of better quality,
otherwise he would be compelled to take his
patronage elsewhere. In the middle of this
harangue he turned round, and I was permitted
an opportunity of seeing his face. He was none
other than your friend, Doctor Nikola."</p>
<p>"But, my dear Gertrude," said Phyllis, "with
all due respect to your narrative, I do not see
that the mere fact of your having met Doctor
Nikola in a chemist's shop yesterday, and your
having been introduced to him to-day, should
have caused you so much concern."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I do not know why it should," she answered,
"but it is a fact, nevertheless. Ever since I
saw him yesterday, his face, with its terrible
eyes, has haunted me. I dreamt of it last night.
All day long I have had it before me, and
now, as if to add to the strangeness of
the coincidence, he proves to be the man of
whom you have so often told me—your demoniacal,
fascinating Nikola. You must admit
that it is very strange."</p>
<p>"A coincidence, a mere coincidence, that is
all," I replied. "Nikola possesses an extraordinary
face, and it must have impressed itself more
deeply upon you than the average countenance
is happy enough to do."</p>
<p>Whether my explanation satisfied her or not,
she said no more upon the subject. But that
our strange meeting with Nikola had had an
extraordinary effect upon her was plainly observable.
As a rule she was as bright and merry
a companion as one could wish to have; on this
particular evening, however, she was not herself
at all. It was the more annoying for the reason
that I was anxious that she should shine on
this occasion, as I was expecting an old friend,
who was going to spend a few days with us
in Venice. That friend was none other than
the Duke of Glenbarth, who previous to his
succession to the Dukedom had been known<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</SPAN></span>
as the Marquis of Beckenham, and who, as the
readers of the history of my adventures with
Doctor Nikola may remember, figured as a very
important factor in that strange affair. Ever
since the day when I had the good fortune to
render him a signal service in the bay of a certain
south-coast watering-place, and from the time
that he had accepted my invitation to join us in
Venice, I had looked forward to his coming with
the greatest possible eagerness. As it happened
it was well-nigh seven o'clock by the time we
reached our hotel. Without pausing in the hall
further than to examine the letter-rack, we
ascended to our rooms on the floor above.
My wife and Miss Trevor had gone to their
apartments, and I was about to follow their
example as soon as I had obtained something
from the sitting-room.</p>
<p>"A nice sort of host, a very nice host," said
a laughing voice as I entered. "He invites me
to stay with him, and is not at home to bid me
welcome. My dear old Dick, how are you?"</p>
<p>"My dear fellow," I cried, hastening forward
to greet him, "I must beg your pardon ten
thousand times. I had not the least idea that
you would be here so early. We have been
sitting on the piazza, and did not hurry home."</p>
<p>"You needn't apologize," he answered. "For
once an Italian train was before its time. And<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</SPAN></span>
now tell me about yourself. How is your wife,
how are you, and what sort of holiday are you
having?"</p>
<p>I answered his questions to the best of my
ability, keeping back my most important item
as a surprise for him.</p>
<p>"And now," I said, "it is time to dress for
dinner. But before you do so, I have some
important news for you. Who do you think
is in Venice?"</p>
<p>Needless to say he mentioned every one but
the right person.</p>
<p>"You had better give it up, you will never
guess," I said. "Who is the most unlikely
person you would expect to see in Venice at
the present moment?"</p>
<p>"Old Macpherson, my solicitor," he replied
promptly. "The rascal would no more think of
crossing the Channel than he would contemplate
standing on his head in the middle of the Strand.
It must be Macpherson."</p>
<p>"Nonsense," I cried. "I don't know Macpherson
in the first place, and I doubt if he
would interest me in the second. No! no! this
man is neither a Scotchman nor a lawyer. He
is an individual bearing the name of Nikola."</p>
<p>I had quite expected to surprise him, but I
scarcely looked for such an outbreak of astonishment.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"What?" he cried, in amazement. "You
must be joking. You don't mean to say that
you have seen Nikola again?"</p>
<p>"I not only mean that I have seen him," I
replied, "but I will go further than that, and
say that he was sitting on the piazza with us
not more than half-an-hour ago. What do you
think his appearance in Venice means?"</p>
<p>"I don't know what to think," he replied,
with an expression of almost comic bewilderment
upon his face. "It seems impossible, and yet
you don't look as if you were joking."</p>
<p>"I tell you the news in all sober earnestness,"
I answered, dropping my bantering tone. "It
is a fact that Nikola is in Venice, and, what is
more, that he has given me his address. He
has invited me to call upon him, and if you like
we will go together. What do you say?"</p>
<p>"I shall have to take time to think about it,"
Glenbarth replied seriously. "I don't suppose
for a moment he has any intention of abducting
me again; nevertheless, I am not going to give
him the opportunity. By Jove, how that fellow's
face comes back to me. It haunts me!"</p>
<p>"Miss Trevor has been complaining of the
same thing," I said.</p>
<p>"Miss Trevor?" the Duke repeated. "And
pray who may Miss Trevor be?"</p>
<p>"A friend of my wife's," I answered. "She<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</SPAN></span>
has been travelling with us for the last few
months. I think you will like her. And now
come along with me and I'll show you your
room. I suppose your man has discovered it by
this time?"</p>
<p>"Stevens would find it if this hotel were constructed
on the same principle as the maze at
Hampton Court," he answered. "He has the
virtue of persistence, and when he wants to find
a thing he secures the person who would be the
most likely to tell him, and sticks to him until
his desire has been gratified."</p>
<p>It turned out as he had predicted, and three-quarters
of an hour later our quartet sat down
to dinner. My wife and Glenbarth, by virtue of
an old friendship, agreed remarkably well, while
Miss Trevor, now somewhat recovered from her
Nikola indisposition, was more like her old self.
It was a beautiful night, and after dinner it was
proposed, seconded, and carried unanimously,
that we should charter a gondola and go for a
row upon the canal. On our homeward voyage
the gondolier, by some strange chance, turned
into the Rio del Consiglio.</p>
<p>"Perhaps you can tell me which is the Palace
Revecce?" I said to the man.</p>
<p>He pointed to a building we were in the act
of approaching.</p>
<p>"There it is, signor," he said. "At one time<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</SPAN></span>
it was a very great palace but now—" here he
shrugged his shoulders to enable us to understand
that its glory had departed from it. Not
another word was said upon the subject, but I
noticed that all our faces turned in the direction
of the building. With the exception of one
solitary window it was in total darkness. As
I looked at the latter I wondered whether
Nikola were in the room, and if so, what he was
doing? Was he poring over some of his curious
books, trying some new experiment in chemistry,
or putting to the test some theory such as I had
found him at work upon in that curious house in
Port Said? A few minutes later we had left the
Rio del Consiglio behind us, had turned to the
right, and were making our way back by another
watery thoroughfare towards the Grand Canal.</p>
<p>"Thanks to your proposition we have had a
delightful evening," Miss Trevor said, as we
paused to say good-night at the foot of the staircase
a quarter of an hour or so later. "I have
enjoyed myself immensely."</p>
<p>"You should not tell him that, dear," said my
wife. "You know how conceited he is already.
He will take all the credit, and be unbearable for
days afterwards." Then turning to me, she
added, "You are going to smoke, I suppose?"</p>
<p>"I had thought of doing so," I replied; and
then added with mock humility, "If you do<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</SPAN></span>
not wish it of course I will not do so. I was
only going to keep Glenbarth company."</p>
<p>They laughed and bade us good-night, and
when we had seen them depart in the direction
of their rooms we lit our cigars and passed
into the balcony outside.</p>
<p>At this hour of the night the Grand Canal
looked very still and beautiful, and we both felt
in the humour for confidences.</p>
<p>"Do you know, Hatteras," said Glenbarth,
after the few moments' pause that followed our
arrival in the open air, "that Nikola's turning up
in Venice at this particular juncture savours to me
a little of the uncanny. What his mission may
be, of course I cannot tell, but that it is some
diabolical thing or another I haven't a doubt."</p>
<p>"One thing is quite certain," I answered, "he
would hardly be here without an object, and,
after our dealings with him in the past, I am
prepared to admit that I don't trust him any
more than you do."</p>
<p>"And now that he has asked you to call upon
him what are you going to do?"</p>
<p>I paused before I replied. The question
involved greater responsibilities than were at
first glance apparent. Knowing Nikola so well,
I had not the least desire or intention to be
drawn into any of the plots or machinations
he was so fond of working against other people.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</SPAN></span>
I must confess, nevertheless, that I could not
help feeling a large amount of curiosity as to
the subsequent history of that little stick, to
obtain which he had spent so much money, and
had risked so many lives.</p>
<p>"Yes, I think I shall call upon him," I said
reflectively, as if I had not quite made up my
mind. "Surely to see him once more could do
no harm? Good heavens! what an extraordinary
fellow he is! Fancy you or I being afraid of
any other man as we are afraid of him, for
mind you, I know that you stand quite as much
in awe of him as I do. Why, do you know
when my eyes fell upon him this afternoon I
felt a return of the old dread his presence used
to cause in me five years ago! The effect he
had upon Miss Trevor was also very singular,
when you come to think of it."</p>
<p>"By the way, Hatteras, talking of Miss Trevor,
what an awfully nice girl she is. I don't know
when I have ever met a nicer. Who is she?"</p>
<p>"She is the daughter of the Dean of Bedminster,"
I answered; "a splendid old fellow."</p>
<p>"I like his daughter," the Duke remarked.
"Yes, I must say that I like her very much."</p>
<p>I was glad to hear this, for I had my own
little dreams, and my wife, who, by the way, is a
born matchmaker, had long ago come to a similar
conclusion.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"She is a very nice girl," I replied, "and
what is more, she is as good as she is nice."
Then I continued, "He will be indeed a lucky
man who wins Gertrude Trevor for his wife.
And now, since our cigars are finished, what do
you say to bed? It is growing late, and I
expect you are tired after your journey."</p>
<p>"I am quite ready," he answered. "I shall
sleep like a top. I only hope and pray that I
shall not dream of Nikola."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />