Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/56

 "Well, here's his game, as I figure it out: People in hiding don't usually advertise their whereabouts. They don't post markers. So don't you see what they're driving at? They simply intend her for the fly, and I am the trout that's to jump at it. They can't even be sure the trout's in this particular pool. But they know that trout have a habit of rising to flies!"

"And this is sure a handsome one!"

"I'm going to rise to it, at any rate. Only, in this case, let's hope we're big enough fish to carry the fly off with us when we go!"

"Now I'm beginning to see daylight," acknowledged Wilsnach. "But what must I do?"

Kestner smoked in silence for several moments.

"Where have you put up?"

"At the Hotel de France, in the Piazza Marina. I thought it best for us to scatter a bit."

"Good! I'm a widow from Hamburg, remember, named Vendersmissen—we can't improve on that name. I've a room at the Hotel des Palmes, next to my grandchild and her nurse. I'm deaf, and I'm eccentric, but I've got money."

"I understand all that, but what does it lead to?"

"Simply that I'm going to take my little blue-eyed grandchild and have her miniature painted on ivory. And I want to be with Maura Lambert when she's doing it."

"She's pretty keen, that young woman!"

"Well, I worked for a week on this make-up. I tried it out on Todaro, in Naples, and on Coletta, at the wharf. It passed both of them."