True to the appointment made by letter, Signor Tolomeo appeared at Durham's office and was at once shown in. He was a tall man with a keen, clever, dark face. His hair and mustache were gray and he had a military appearance. In his bearing there was great dignity, and it could be seen at a glance that he had good blood in his veins. It was true what Sir Simon had said. The Tolomeo family had been nobles of the Sienese Republic for many a century, and although their present-day representative was poor in pocket and played the violin for a living, yet he looked a great lord. But his dark eyes had a somewhat reckless expression in them, which showed that Tolomeo lacked what is called moral principle.
Durham received him politely and indicated a seat near his desk with a smile. Tolomeo, with great courtesy, bowed and sat down. Then he fixed his large eyes on the lawyer with an inquiring air, but was too astute to say anything. He had been brought here on an errand, the purport of which he knew nothing; therefore he waited to hear what Durham had to say before he committed himself.
"Signor Tolomeo," said the lawyer, "you were surprised to see my advertisement?"
"I was indeed," replied the Italian, who spoke excellent English. "Our last interview was not particularly pleasant."
"This may be still less so," rejoined Durham, dryly; "but as it concerns your nephew Bernard, perhaps you will be frank with me."
"Ah, poor Bernard!" said the uncle. "He is dead."
"No. He is alive."
"Gran Dio!" Tolomeo started from his seat in a somewhat theatrical manner. "What is this you say, signor?"
"I say that he is alive, but in hiding. I tell you this because I know you like Bernard and appreciate his kindness to you."
"Yes! The boy is a good boy. He has been very kind to me. Although," added Tolomeo, with a somewhat cynical air, "I do not deserve it. Ah, signor, the want of money makes us all sad rascals."