passed I found myself, when not with Ella, very frequently in the company of an American visitor in the hotel—a small man with very piercing blue eyes and a marked American accent. Ella took an instinctive dislike to him, although he was always extremely attentive and polite to her, and I think I got more of her society than I should otherwise have done on this account, as she seemed to hate to see me with the American, and even went so far as to interrupt us on several occasions.
On the whole, however, life moved both pleasantly and quietly, although I could not help feeling that I was living on the edge of a quiescent volcano which might, at any moment, become active.
I was right. The activity was very strange, and very serious.
One evening, after we had been living at the hotel for about three weeks, shortly after dinner had commenced, an English lady who was staying there with her husband came in late—a very unusual thing for her to do; and it was evident to all in the room that she was very agitated about something.
Her husband was sitting at their table-à-deux waiting for her, but on listening to the statement which she made to him in an undertone,
