Then he went on--"You will be shocked at what I am going to tell you; but listen, and do not give me up: You must stand by me and comfort me and help me to turn again." He paused for a moment and continued--"It was one night in October, when Constance and I were at Naples.

I took that violin and went by myself to the ruined villa on the Scoglio di Venere." He had been speaking with difficulty.

His hand clutched mine convulsively, but still I felt it trembling, and I could see the moisture standing thick on his forehead.

At this point the effort seemed too much for him and he broke off.

"I cannot go on, I cannot tell you, but you can read it for yourself.