Curiously enough, however, the door of the Consulate and the safe had
been opened with the keys which my friend had left in my charge. Indeed,
the small bunch still remained in the safe door.

In an instant the recollection flashed across my mind that I had felt
the keys in my pocket while at dinner on board the _Lola_. Had I lost
them on my homeward drive, or had my pocket been picked?

Carducci, with an Italian's volubility, commenced to hurl imprecations
upon the heads of the unknown sons of dogs who dared to tamper with his
master's safe, and while we were engaged in putting the scattered papers
in order the door-bell rang, and the clerk went to attend to the caller.

In a few moments he returned, saying--

"The English yacht left suddenly last night, signore, and the Captain of
the Port has sent to inquire whether you know to what port she is
bound."

"Left!" I gasped in amazement "Why, I thought her engines were
disabled!"

A quarter of an hour later I was sitting in the private office of the
shrewd, gray-haired functionary who had sent this messenger to me.

"Do you know, Signor Commendatore," he said, "some mystery surrounds
that vessel. She is not the _Lola_, for yesterday we telegraphed to
Lloyd's, in London, and this morning I received a reply that no such
yacht appears on their register, and that the name is unknown. The