“Pardon, signorini,” he said, breathlessly, “but it will be to oblige me greatly if you will tell me where Signor Ferralti is.”

“He is not of our party,” answered Patsy, promptly; but Louise looked up as if startled, and said:  “I have been expecting him to join us here.”

“Then you do not know?” exclaimed the portiere, in an anxious tone.

“Know what, sir?” asked the girl.

“That Signor Ferralti is gone.  He has not been seen by any after last evening.  He did not occupy his room.  But worse, far worse, will I break you the news gently—­his baggage is gone with him!”

“His baggage gone!” echoed Louise, greatly disturbed.  “And he did not tell you?  You did not see him go?”

“Alas, no, signorina.  His bill is still unsettled.  He possessed two large travelling cases, which must have been carried out at the side entrance with stealth most deplorable.  The padrone is worried.  Signor Ferralti is American, and Americans seldom treat us wrongfully.”

“Signor Ferralti is Italian,” answered Louise, stiffly.

“The name is Italian, perhaps; but he speaks only the English,” declared the portiere.

“He is not a rogue, however.  Assure your master of that fact.  When Mr. Merrick returns he will settle Count Ferralti’s bill.”

“Oh, Louise!” gasped Patsy.

“I don’t understand it in the least,” continued Louise, looking at her cousins as if she were really bewildered.  “I left him in the courtyard last evening to finish his cigar, and he said he would meet us in the garden after breakfast.  I am sure he had no intention of going away.  And for the honor of American travellers his account here must be taken care of.”

“One thing is singular,” observed Beth, calmly.  “There has been no train since last you saw him.  If Count Ferralti has left the hotel, where could he be?”

The portiere brightened.

“Gia s’intende!” he exclaimed, “he must still be in Taormina—­doubtless at some other hotel.”

“Will you send and find out?” asked Louise.

“I will go myself, and at once,” he answered.  “And thank you, signorina, for the kind assurance regarding the account.  It will relieve the padrone very much.”

He hurried away again, and an uneasy silence fell upon the nieces.

“Do you care for this young man.  Louise?” asked Beth, pointedly, after the pause had become awkward.

“He is very attentive and gentlemanly, and I feel you have all wronged him by your unjust suspicions,” she replied, with spirit.

“That does not answer my question, dear,” persisted her cousin.  “Are you especially fond of him?”

“What right have you to question me in this way, Beth?”

“No right at all, dear.  I am only trying to figure out our doubtful position in regard to this young man—­a stranger to all of us but you.”

“It is really none of our business,” observed Patsy, quickly.  “We’re just a lot of gossips to be figuring on Count Ferralti at all.  And although this sudden disappearance looks queer, on the face of it, the gentleman may simply have changed his boarding place.”