"I do not know that palazzo, Signor. I am a stranger in Verona."
"I know where it is, Signorina, for on that night I was wandering about near it, when I saw Pallanza go into it alone. Knowing the evil reputation of the place, I followed him, although he was a stranger to me. He went to a room in the palace where his enemy met him, and--and----"
"Yes! yes, Signor--for the love of the Saints, go on."
"I can tell you no more, Signorina, except that I do not believe Guiseppe left that room again. I believe he is there still, perhaps held captive by the robber who lured him thither in the hope of obtaining a ransom."
Bianca looked at me searchingly. She was a simple little thing as a rule, but this ridiculous story I had manufactured of brigands in the heart of Verona was too much even for her confiding nature, and she made a gesture of disbelief.
"It is not true! it is not true!" she cried vehemently. "Why do you deceive me, Signor?"
"I am not deceiving you."
"An enemy! a false letter! a deserted palace! held captive! Oh, I cannot believe it. If it is true, why did you not rescue him?"
"Because some one I do not know seized me from behind as I watched, and, rendering me insensible with chloroform, bore me away from the palace. I had great difficulty in finding it again, I assure you."
"Signor, your story is that of a dream. I cannot believe you."