eye-glasses upon his nose, clumsily, with one hand, and then unfolded the
letter. It was merely a sheet of blank paper, with a cross drawn upon it.

His face suddenly blazed red with anger. His eyes glared at the paper
through the glasses placed crookedly upon his nose.

"Holy name!" he cried. "Look at this--this to _me_! The dogs!"

The colonel looked at the paper with a shrug of the shoulders.

"You will have to sell," he suggested lightly; and glancing up at
Perucca's face, saw something there that made him leap to his feet.
"Hulloa! Here," he said quickly--"sit down."

And as he forced Perucca into the chair, his hands were already at the
old man's collar. And in five minutes, in the presence of Colonel Gilbert
and two old servants, Mattei Perucca died.




CHAPTER IV.


A TOSS-UP.

"One can be but what one is born."


If any one had asked the Count Lory de Vasselot who and what he was, he