dily let him go. There ensued a sharp
snapping of altercation between Luigi and Beppo. Vittoria had to order
Beppo to stand back.

"It is a poor dog, not of a good breed, signorina," Luigi said, casting a
tolerant glance over his shoulder. "Faithful, but a poor nose. Ah! you
gave me this cigarette. Not the Virgin could have touched my marrow as
you did. That's to be remembered by-and-by. Now, you are going to sing on
the night of the fifteenth of September. Change that night. The Signor
Antonio-Pericles watches you, and he is a friend of the Government, and
the Government is snoring for you to think it asleep. The Signor
Antonio-Pericles pacifies the Tedeschi, but he will know all that you are
doing, and how easy it will be, and how simple, for you to let me know
what you think he ought to know, and just enough to keep him comfortable!
So we work like a machine, signorina. Only, not through that Beppo, for
he is vain of his legs, and his looks, and his service, and because he
has carried a gun and heard it go off. Yes; I am a spy. But I am honest.
I, too, have visited England. One can be honest and a spy. Signorina, I
have two arms, but only one heart. If you will be gracious and consider!
Say, here are two hands. One hand does this thing, one hand does that
thing, and that thing wipes out this thing. It amounts to clear
reasoning! Here are two eyes. Were they meant to see nothing but one
side! Here is a tongue with a line down the middle almost to the tip of
it--which is for service. That Beppo couldn't deal double, if he would;
for he is imperfectly designed--a mere dog's pattern! But, only one
heart, signorina--mind that. I will never forget the cigarette. I shall
smoke it before I leave the mountain, and think--oh!"

Having illustrated the philosophy of his system, Luigi continued: "I am
going to tell you everything. Pray, do not look on Beppo! This is
important. The Signor Antonio-Pericles sent me to spy on you, because he
expects some people to come up the mountain, and you know them; and one
is an Austrian officer, and he is an Englishman by birth, and he is
coming to meet some English friends who enter Italy from Switzerland over
the Moro, and easily up here on mules or donkeys from Pella. The Signor
Antonio-Pericles has gold ears for everything that concerns the
signorina. 'A patriot is she!' he says; and he is jealous of your English
friends. He thinks they will distract you from your studies; and
perhaps"--L