“Doubtless,” I answered. “An the price contents you, I do not know why I should quarrel with it.”

By this we were halfway down the street, and we now came upon the guest house. A window above us was unshuttered, and in the room within a light still burned. Suddenly it was extinguished. A man’s face looked down upon us for a moment, then drew back; a skeleton hand was put out softly and slowly, and the shutter drawn to. Hand and face belonged to the man I had sent tumbling among the graves the evening before.

“The Italian doctor,” said Master Pory.

There was something peculiar in his tone. I glanced at him, but his broad red face and twinkling eyes told me nothing. “The Italian doctor,” he repeated. “If I had a friend in Captain Percy’s