"Partenza! Partenza!" the guard bawled, blowing his horn.
"Good-by. Don't miss it!" cried Wrenmarsh, giving Jerry's hand a farewell grip.
"To-morrow night," returned Taberman.
"I show a light," the collector vociferated, running along the platform beside the now moving train, and repeating the details he had already arranged. "A white light."
"Right-o!" shouted Taberman, as the train bore him beyond the reach of further communication.
He threw himself back into the corner of the compartment, and all the way to Naples he kept wondering over and over what there was about Mr. Wrenmarsh that had induced him to promise to have a share in a scheme so mad.
