"I know the exact age of the Maltese wife."
"How so?"
"Ventin told me he was forty years of age, and that he was twenty when he started his career in London; he said he had thirteen years of fast living there, so in order to be forty now, seven years must have elapsed since his marriage."
"But what has this got to do with the age of his wife?"
"Everything; he said his wife was twenty-three years of age when he met her first; that by my argument must have been seven years ago, so to-day his wife must be thirty years of age--now is this new passenger thirty?"
"No, I'm certain she isn't; besides, the Marchese told me his cousin and himself stayed on deck till the vessel started."
"Oh!" said Ronald, thoughtfully, "so that disposes of this young lady, it cannot be she, but the Marchese might help us."
"I don't think so; he wouldn't know Ventin."
"Perhaps not, but he might know Mrs. Ventin, as he lives at Valletta, and the whole affair might be sifted to the bottom; but oh hang it, I forgot," broke off Monteith in dismay, "Ventin was not his real name."
"Heavens, you don't say so! Then what was it?"