The instant that the message ended Dan glanced slowly around him, then upward at the ceiling.
Soon Dalny's interest in the table talk waned for outside on the sidewalk he caught sight of a young Neapolitan dandy, standing on the curb, his back turned to the restaurant as he swung a jaunty little cane. The motions of that cane spelled out a message that only Dalny, of all the party at the table, could read. And that message read:
"Get carriage, take Americans for drive at dark. Finally, direct driver to turn into the Strada di Mara. Leave carriage with Americans when urged by shop-keeper."
That was the whole message. It was plain enough, however, to instruct Dalny as fully as he needed to be directed. The scoundrel, as he watched the swinging movements of the cane, looked out into the street between half-closed eyelids, slowly puffing out rings of smoke from his long cigar.
"We are becoming dull, good friends," laughed Dalny presently, glancing at the others. "Suppose we order more coffee."
"No more for me, thank you," protested Dave.
"But you have had hardly any coffee," Dalny declared.
"I am ready to admit that I can't keep up with the average American in drinking coffee," Dave replied.
"But you will have more, my dear Dalzell," urged Dalny.
Dan, who was inwardly agitated over the information he had received secretly from his chum, looked at Dalny almost with a start. In Dan's soul there was loathing for this foreigner with the engaging smile.