Had she known that Giuseppe and Robert Redmayne were actually working together to destroy Albert Redmayne, Brendon believed that she would tell him.  But he guessed that she knew nothing definite, while suspecting much.  She had shown the most acute concern at his own danger, and more than once implored Mark to do nothing but look after his own safety until Peter Ganns was back again.  Meantime the rift between her spouse and herself appeared to grow.  She was tearful and anxious, yet still chose to be vague, though she did admit that she thought she had glimpsed Robert Redmayne again, one evening.  But Brendon did not press her again to confide in him, though Doria showed no sort of jealousy.  He often left them together for hours and exhibited to the detective a very amiable attitude.  He, too, on more than one occasion confessed that matrimony was a state overvaunted.

“Praise married life by all means, Signor Marco,” he said, “but—­keep single.  Peace, my friend, is the highest happiness, and the rarest.”

The days passed and presently, without any warning, Albert Redmayne and the American suddenly reappeared.  They arrived at Menaggio after noon.

Mr. Redmayne was in the highest spirits and delighted to be home again.  He knew nothing about Peter’s operations and cared less.  His visit to England was spent at London, where he had renewed acquaintance with certain book collectors, seen and handled many precious things, and surprised and gratified himself to observe his own physical energies and enterprise.

“I am still wonderfully strong, Jenny,” he told his niece.  “I have been most active in mind and body and am by no means so far down the hill of old age, that ends by the River of Lethe, as I imagined.”

He made a good meal, and then, despite the long night in the train, insisted on sending for a boat and crossing the water to Bellagio.

“I have a present for my Poggi,” he said, “and I cannot sleep until I hear his voice and hold his hand.”

Ernesto went for a waterman and soon a boat waited at the steps, which descended from Mr. Redmayne’s private apartments to the lake.  He rowed away and Brendon, who had come to see Doria and found to his surprise that Redmayne and Peter were back again, anticipated some private hours with Mr. Ganns.  But the traveller was weary and, after one of Assunta’s famous omelettes and three glasses of white wine, he declared that he must retire and sleep as long as nature ordained slumber.

He spoke before the listening Giuseppe, but addressed his remarks to Brendon.

“I’m exceedingly short of rest,” he said.  “Whether I have done the least good by my inquiries remains to be seen.  To be frank, I doubt it.  We’ll have a talk to-morrow, Mark; and maybe Doria will remember a thing or two that happened at ‘Crow’s Nest’ and so help me.  But until I have slept I am useless.”