during dinner.

He did not open this volume at once. On the contrary, he was silent for
a little while; and then he looked up, and addressed Natalie, with a
strange grave smile on his face.

"I was about to tell your father, Miss Lind, when you came in, that if I
could not translate for you, or carry a message across the Atlantic for
him, he might at least find something else that I can do. At all events,
may I say that I am willing to join you, if I can be of any help at
all?"

Ferdinand Lind regarded him for a second, and said, quite calmly,

"It is unnecessary. You have already joined us."




CHAPTER IX.

A NIGHT IN VENICE.


The solitary occupant of this railway-carriage was apparently reading;
but all the same he looked oftener at his watch than at his book. At
length he definitely shut the volume and placed it in his
travelling-bag. Then he let down the carriage-window, and looked out
into the night.