“It’s always interesting to get a thing from every angle,” answered Mr. Ganns.  “Your brother may have something to tell us.”

But whether Bendigo’s diary might have proved valuable remained a matter of doubt, for when Jenny opened the parcel, it was not there.  A blank book and the famous novel were all the parcel contained.

“But I packed it myself,” said Mr. Redmayne.  “The diary was bound exactly as this blank volume is bound, yet it is certain that I made no mistake, for I opened my brother’s log and read a page or two before completing the parcel.”

“He had bought a new diary only the last time he was in Dartmouth,” said Doria.  “I remember the incident.  I asked him what he was going to put into the book, and he said that his log was just running out and he needed a new volume.”

“You are sure that you did not mistake the old, full book for the new, empty one, Albert?” asked his friend.

“I cannot be positive, of course, but I feel no shadow of doubt in my own mind.”

“Then the one has been substituted for the other by somebody else.  That is a very interesting fact, if true.”

“Impossible,” declared Jenny.  “There was nobody to do such a thing, Mr. Ganns.  Who could have felt any interest in poor Uncle Bendigo’s diary but ourselves?”

Mr. Ganns considered.

“The answer to that question might save us a very great deal of trouble,” he said.  “But there may be no answer.  Your uncle may be mistaken.  On the other hand I have never known him to be mistaken over any question involving a book.”

He took up the empty volume and turned its pages; then Brendon declared they must be going.

“I’m afraid we’re keeping Mr. Redmayne out of bed, Ganns,” he hinted.  “Our kits have already been sent to the hotel and as we’ve got a mile to walk, we’d better be moving.  Are you never sleepy?”

He turned to Jenny.

“I don’t believe he has closed his eyes since we left England, Mrs. Doria.”

But Peter did not laugh:  he appeared to be deep in thought.  Suddenly he spoke and surprised them.

“I’m afraid you’re going to find me the sort of friend that sticketh closer than a brother, Albert.  In a word, somebody must go to the hotel and bring back my travelling grip, for I’m not going to lose sight of you again till we’ve got this thing straightened out.”

Mr. Redmayne was delighted.

“How like you, Peter—­how typical of your attitude!  You shall not leave me, dear friend.  You shall sleep in the apartment next my own.  It contains many books, but there shall be my great couch moved from my own bedroom and set up there in half an hour.  It is as comfortable as a bed.”

He turned to his niece.

“Seek Assunta and Ernesto and set the apartment in order for Mr. Ganns, Jenny; and you, Giuseppe, will take Mr. Brendon to the Hotel Victoria and bring back Peter’s luggage.”