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Updated: June 4, 2025
After some months of waiting, the opportunity came, and I seized it. By appointment, at the Royal Automobile Club one grey December morning, I met Count Bindo di Ferraris, a young Italian aristocrat, whose aspect, however, was the reverse of that of a Southerner. About thirty, he was tall, lithe, and well dressed in a dark-brown lounge suit.
I asked Madame, much interested in this new phase of the affair, and yet at the same time puzzled that Pierrette had apparently not told Bindo about the affair when they met in London. "Yes," answered the queer old lady with the rough voice. "He was most sympathetic and interested. He said that he knew one of the chiefs at your Scot-len Yarde, and that he would write to him."
An hour only I remained, in order to get a hot meal, for I was half perished by the cold, and then, after refilling my petrol-tank and taking a look around the engines, we both mounted, and I turned the car back into the road along which I had travelled. It was already nearly dark, and very soon I had to put on the search-light. Bindo, seated at my side, appeared utterly worn-out with travel.
Samminiato and Tommaso having been punished according to their deserts, a Balia was formed of many citizens, which sought the delinquents, and took measures for the security of the state. They declared six of the family of the Ricci rebels; also, six of the Alberti; two of the Medici; three of the Scali; two of the Strozzi; Bindo Altoviti, Bernado Adimari, and many others of inferior quality.
But Baccio's dearest friend in the studio was a boy nearly his own age, Mariotto Albertinelli, son of Biagio di Bindo, born October 13, 1474. He had experienced the common lot of young artists in those days, and had been apprenticed to a gold-beater, but preferred the profession of painter.
Then I saw that his partiality towards her was with a distinct object namely, in order to be aware of her father's movements. Truly, Bindo and Blythe were past-masters in the art of genteel scoundrelism. Adventurers of the very first water, they seldom, if ever, let me into their secrets until their plans were actually matured.
"Yes, Dumont went to London, and took his clerk, a certain Martin, with him, and a bagful of jewels worth the respectable sum of half a million francs. They stayed at the Charing Cross Hotel, but five days later both men and the jewels disappeared." Bindo sank back in his seat utterly dumbfounded. "But, Ewart," he gasped, "do you really think it is true?
She had apologised to her house-party for her absence, explained the urgency of her presence in London, and promised to be back in time for dinner on the morrow. She left the Hall at half-past six. At seven Bindo called me out of the servants' hall and whispered "Hold yourself in readiness. Go to my room at nine punctually, and you'll find on the table half a dozen novels done up in a strap.
I had done my utmost, as I thought, to efface my identity and to give the car an entirely different appearance from that which it had presented at Scarborough. The only manner in which I had been "given away" was, I believed, by means of some English five-pound notes which Bindo had sent me from Stettin, and which I had cashed in Dresden.
When you know the truth of the affair you'll be staggered." My curiosity was, I admit, excited. Count Bindo, the dare-devil Italian adventurer, who cared not a jot for any man living, and who himself lived so well upon the proceeds of his amazing audacity and clever wits, was not in the habit of speaking like this. I pressed him to tell me more, but he only said "Go, Ewart.
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