"I think I can tell you," Ravenspur groaned. "It was the fancy portrait. Some instinct tells me so."
"You are quite right, sir," Walter went on. "It was the portrait, surely enough. But it did not belong to Stevens, as you will probably have guessed by this time. It had been left in his care by an Italian friend, who gave a very plausible reason for being in possession of so valuable a work. I understand that this Italian's name was Luigi Silva. Have you heard of him?"
Lord Ravenspur rose from his chair, and walked agitatedly up and down the studio. It was some little time before he spoke, and then his words came slowly and painfully.
"I see you know more than I had expected," he said. "For instance, you have formed the conclusion that this Luigi Silva stole that picture. In fact, that he came here on purpose to get possession of it, and that he took two other canvases at the same time to prevent us finding out his real motive. Till tonight I had not the remotest idea why this Luigi Silva wanted that portrait, because the loss of the other pictures utterly deceived me, as it was intended to do. Now I know better."
"But you did not answer my question, sir," Lance suggested.
"Oh, yes; you wanted to know if I was personally acquainted with this man. As a matter of fact, I am not, though I have heard far too much about him for my peace of mind. But tell me, how did you manage to ascertain the fellow's proper name?"
"That, of course, we got from Stevens," Walter explained. "Silva is in England ostensibly as a music hall artist; in other words, he is Valdo, the flying man that I told you about a little time ago. But don't you think we are getting rather from the point, uncle? I want to know the history of this man."
Once more Ravenspur commenced his walk up and down the room. He seemed to be hovering between two minds.
