"I remember every word," was his answer. "Go on. What did you do?"
"Nothing. I held my tongue. But when I discovered that the fellow who called himself Woodroffe—the man who had represented himself as the owner of the Lola, and who, no doubt, had had a hand in breaking open Hutcheson's safe in the Consulate—was engaged to Muriel, I became full of suspicion."
"Well?"
"Woodroffe, after meeting me, disappeared—went to Hamburg, they said, on business. Then other things occurred. A man and woman were found murdered up in the wood about a mile and a half from the castle. The man was made up to represent my man Olinto--I believe you've seen him in Leghorn?"
"What! They've killed Olinto?" he gasped, starting from his chair.
"No. The fellow was made up very much like him. But his wife Armida was killed."
"They killed the woman, and believed they had also killed her husband, eh?" he said bitterly through his teeth, and I saw that his strong hands grasped the arms of his chair firmly. "And Martin Woodroffe is engaged to Muriel Leithcourt. Are you certain of this?"
"Yes; quite certain."
"And is there no suspicion as to who is the assassin of the woman Santini and this mysterious man who posed as her husband?"
"None whatever."