been productive of such deplorable results, that I cannot
and dare not stir any further in the case of Ferrari.

If I had not consented to let that unfortunate man refer to me
by name, the late Lord Montbarry would never have engaged him,

and his wife would have been spared the misery and suspense from
which she is suffering now. I would not even look at the report

to which you allude if it was placed in my hands--I have heard more
than enough already of that hideous life in the palace at Venice.

If Mrs. Ferrari chooses to address herself to Lady Barville
(with your assistance), that is of course quite another thing.

But, even in this case, I must make it a positive condition
that my name shall not be mentioned. Forgive me, dear Mr. Troy!

I am very unhappy, and very unreasonable--but I am only a woman,
and you must not expect too much from me.'

Foiled in this direction, the lawyer next advised making the attempt
to discover the present address of Lady Montbarry's English maid.

This excellent suggestion had one drawback: it could only be
carried out by spending money--and there was no money to spend.

Mrs. Ferrari shrank from the bare idea of making any use
of the thousand-pound note. It had been deposited in the safe

keeping of a bank. If it was even mentioned in her hearing,
she shuddered and referred to it, with melodramatic fervour, as 'my

husband's blood-money!'
So, under stress of circumstances, the attempt to solve the mystery

of Ferrari's disappearance was suspended for a while.
It was the last month of the year 1860. The commission of inquiry

was already at work; having begun its investigations on December 6.
On the 10th, the term for which the late Lord Montbarry had hired

the Venetian palace, expired. News by telegram reached the insurance
offices that Lady Montbarry had been advised by her lawyers to leave

for London with as little delay as possible. Baron Rivar, it was believed,
would accompany her to England, but would not remain in that country,

unless his services were absolutely required by her ladyship.
The Baron, 'well known as an enthusiastic student of chemistry,'

had heard of certain recent discoveries in connection with that
science in the United States, and was anxious to investigate

them personally.
These items of news, collected by Mr. Troy, were duly communicated

to Mrs. Ferrari, whose anxiety about her husband made her a frequent,
a too frequent, visitor at the lawyer's office. She attempted

to relate what she had heard to her good friend and protectress.
Agnes steadily refused to listen, and positively forbade any further

conversation relating to Lord Montbarry's wife, now that Lord
Montbarry was no more. 'You have Mr. Troy to advise you,' she said;

'and you are welcome to what little money I can spare, if money
is wanted. All I ask in return is that you will not distress me.

I am trying to separate myself from remembrances--'her voice faltered;
she paused to control herself--'from remembrances,' she resumed,

'which are sadder than ever since I have heard of Lord Montbarry's death.
Help me by your silence to recover my spirits, if I can. Let me

hear nothing more, until I can rejoice with you that your husband
is found.'

Time advanced to the 13th of the month; and more information of the
interesting sort reached Mr. Troy. The labours of the insurance commission

had come to an end--the report had been received from Venice on that day.
CHAPTER VIII

On the 14th the Directors and their legal advisers met for the
reading of the report, with closed doors. These were the terms

in which the Commissioners related the results of their inquiry:
'Private and confidential.

'We have the honour to inform our Directors that we arrived in Venice
on December 6, 1860. On the same day we proceeded to the palace

inhabited by Lord Montbarry at the time of his last illness and death.
'We were received with all possible courtesy by Lady Montbarry's brother,

Baron Rivar. "My sister was her husband's only attendant throughout
his illness," the Baron informed us. "She is overwhelmed by grief

and fatigue--or she would have been here to receive you personally.
What are your wishes, gentlemen? and what can I do for you in her

ladyship's place?"
'In accordance with our instructions, we answered that the death

and burial of Lord Montbarry abroad made it desirable to obtain more
complete information relating to his illness, and to the circumstances

which had attended it, than could be conveyed in writing.
We explained that the law provided for the lapse of a certain

interval of time before the payment of the sum assured, and we
expressed our wish to conduct the inquiry with the most respectful

consideration for her ladyship's feelings, and for the convenience
of any other members of the family inhabiting the house.

'To this the Baron replied, "I am the only member of the family
living here, and I and the palace are entirely at your disposal."

From first to last we found this gentleman perfectly straighforward,
and most amiably willing to assist us.

'With the one exception of her ladyship's room, we went over
the whole of the palace the same day. It is an immense place

only partially furnished. The first floor and part of the second
floor were the portions of it that had been inhabited by Lord

Montbarry and the members of the household. We saw the bedchamber,
at one extremity of the palace, in which his lordship died,

and the small room communicating with it, which he used as a study.
Next to this was a large apartment or hall, the doors of which

he habitually kept locked, his object being (as we were informed)
to pursue his studies uninterruptedly in perfect solitude.

On the other side of the large hall were the bedchamber occupied
by her ladyship, and the dressing-room in which the maid slept

previous to her departure for England. Beyond these were the dining
and reception rooms, opening into an antechamber, which gave access

to the grand staircase of the palace.
'The only inhabited rooms on the second floor were the sitting-room

and bedroom occupied by Baron Rivar, and another room at some
distance from it, which had been the bedroom of the courier Ferrari.

'The rooms on the third floor and on the basement were
completely unfurnished, and in a condition of great neglect.

We inquired if there was anything to be seen below the basement--
and we were at once informed that there were vaults beneath,

which we were at perfect liberty to visit.
'We went down, so as to leave no part of the palace unexplored.

The vaults were, it was believed, used as dungeons in the old times--
say, some centuries since. Air and light were only partially admitted

to these dismal places by two long shafts of winding construction,
which communicated with the back yard of the palace, and the openings

of which, high above the ground, were protected by iron gratings.
The stone stairs leading down into the vaults could be closed at

will by a heavy trap-door in the back hall, which we found open.
The Baron himself led the way down the stairs. We remarked that it might

be awkward if that trap-door fell down and closed the opening behind us.
The Baron smiled at the idea. "Don't be alarmed, gentlemen," he said;

"the door is safe. I had an interest in seeing to it myself,
when we first inhabited the palace. My favourite study is the study

of experimental chemistry--and my workshop, since we have been in Venice,
is down here."

'These last words explained a curious smell in the vaults,
which we noticed the moment we entered them. We can only describe

the smell by saying that it was of a twofold sort--faintly aromatic,
as it were, in its first effect, but with some after-odour very

sickening in our nostrils. The Baron's furnaces and retorts,
and other things, were all there to speak for themselves,

together with some packages of chemicals, having the name and address
of the person who had supplied them plainlyvisible on their labels.

"Not a pleasant place for study," Baron Rivar observed, "but my sister
is timid. She has a horror of chemical smells and explosions--

and she has banished me to these lower regions, so that my experiments
may neither be smelt nor heard." He held out his hands, on which we

had noticed that he wore gloves in the house. "Accidents will
happen sometimes," he said, "no matter how careful a man may be.

I burnt my hands severely in trying a new combination the other day,
and they are only recovering now."

'We mention these otherwiseunimportant incidents, in order to show
that our exploration of the palace was not impeded by any attempt

at concealment. We were even admitted to her ladyship's own room--
on a subsequent occasion, when she went out to take the air.

Our instructions recommended us to examine his lordship's residence,
because the extremeprivacy of his life at Venice, and the