Again he longed to confide in her and show her that he understood
the truth; but two considerations shut his mouth: the thought of
Peter Ganns and the reflection that the more Jenny knew, the greater
might be her own peril. This last conviction made him conclude their
conference.

"Call him. We must not let him think that we have anything of a
private nature to say to each other. It is vital that he should not
imagine such a thing."

"You have secrets from me--though I have let you know my own
secret," she murmured, preparing to obey him.

"If I keep anything from you, it is for your own good--for your own
security," he replied.

She left him then and in a few moments returned with her husband. He
was full of curiosity and under his usual assumption of cheerfulness
Brendon perceived considerable anxiety.

"An adventure, Signor Marco? I know that without you telling me.
Your face is solemn as a raven and you walked stiffly as you came to
the door. I saw you from the silkworms. What has happened?"

"I've had a squeak of my life," replied Mark, "and I've made a
stupid mistake. You must pay all attention to what I'm going to tell
you, Doria, for we can't say who is in danger now and who is not.
The shot that very nearly ended my career yesterday might just as
easily have been aimed at you, had you been in my place."