But I never guessed the majestic heights of Peter’s genius and, taking the chance of his temporary absence, slew Albert with a simple trick.  There was only Mark Brendon to prevent it; and Jenny, having reserved her final and irresistible appeal for some such vital occasion, found no difficulty in absorbing all Marco’s limited intelligence, while awakening for him fond hopes and visions of a notable future in her arms.  It needs to be pointed out that this worthy person’s infatuation served again and again to prosper the situation for us and handicap the efforts of Peter Ganns; but that Ganns should have trusted him upon that all-important night to shepherd Albert from my attention, only shows how Peter never appreciated the limitations of his assistant.  Yes, even Peter was human, all too human.

While Jenny related her sufferings and made appeal to her listener’s overmastering devotion, I left the house and Brendon saw me go.  To get a boat, that I might cross to Bellagio, was the work of ten minutes.  I took one without troubling the owner, loaded a dozen heavy stones and soon rowed to Villa Pianezzo and ascended the water steps.  A black beard was all the disguise I used, save that I had left my coat in the boat and appeared before Redmayne in shirt sleeves.

With trembling accents I related to Assunta, who of course knew me not, that Poggi was taken fatally ill and might hardly hope to last an hour.  It was enough.  I returned to the boat and in three minutes Albert joined me and offered me untold gold to row as I had never rowed before.  A hundred and fifty yards from shore I directed him to pass into the bow of the boat, explaining that I should so make greater speed.  As he passed me, the little pole-axe fell.  He suffered nothing and in five minutes more, with heavy stones fastened to feet and arms, he sank beneath Como.  The pole-axe followed, its work completed.  In more spacious times the weapon would have become an heirloom.  All this happened not two hundred yards from Villa Pianezzo under the darkness.

Then I rowed ashore swiftly, returned the boat to the beach unobserved, hid my disguise in my pocket and strolled to a familiar inn.  I had occupied but twenty-four minutes from the time of setting out under Brendon’s eyes while he sat in the garden.  I stopped at this albergo for a considerable period, that a sufficient alibi might be established and the moment of my arrival there prove uncertain, should any future question ever arise concerning it.  Then the crash came.  I returned home suspecting nothing—­to fall like Lucifer, to find all lost, to hold my dead wife in my arms and know that, without her, life was ended for me.