found Olinto, dressed in his best suit of black, standing hat in hand.
In an instant I recollected what Jack had told me, and regarded him with some suspicion.
"Signor commendatore," he said in a low voice, as though fearing to be overheard, "may I be permitted to speak in private with you?"
"Certainly," I said, and I took him in the lift up to my room.
"I have come to warn you, signore," he said, when I had given him a seat. "Your enemies mean harm to you."
"And who are they, pray?" I asked, biting my lips. "The same, I suppose, who prepared that ingenious trap in Lambeth?"
"I am not here to reveal to you who they are, signore, only to warn you to have a care of yourself," was the Italian's reply.
"Look here, Olinto!" I exclaimed determinedly, "I've had enough of this confounded mystery! Tell me the truth regarding the assassination of your poor wife up in Scotland."
"Ah, signore!" he answered sadly in a changed voice, "I do no know. It was a plot. Some one represented me—but he was killed also. They believed they had struck me down," he added, with a bitter laugh. "Poor Armida's body was found concealed behind a rock on the opposite side of the wood. I saw it—ah!" he cried shuddering.
"Then you are ignorant of the identity of your wife's assassin?"
"Entirely."
