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"Do you know, Signor Commendatore," he said, "some mystery surrounds
that vessel. She is not the _Lola_, for yesterday we telegraphed to
Lloyd's, in London, and this morning I received a reply that no such
yacht appears on their register, and that the name is unknown. The
police have also telegraphed to your English police inquiring about the
owner, Signor Hornby, with a like result. There is no such place as
Woodcroft Park, in Somerset, and no member of Brook's Club of the name
of Hornby."
I sat staring at the official, too amazed to utter a word. Certainly
they had not allowed the grass to grow beneath their feet.
"Unfortunately the telegraphic replies from England are only to hand
this morning," he went on, "because just before two o'clock this morning
the harbor police, whom I specially ordered to watch the vessel, saw a
boat come to the wharf containing a man and woman. The pair were put
ashore, and walked away into the town, the woman seeming to walk with
considerable difficulty.


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