"

Every head was turned in his direction. "What do you mean?" "What
inequality?" "Explain yourself!" chorused several voices.

"Really it is a mere nothing," answered Freccia, lazily, as he surveyed
with the admiring air of a gourmet the dainty portion of pheasant just
placed before him. "I assure you, only the uneducated would care two
scudi about such a circumstance. The excellent brothers Respetti are to
blame--their absence to-night has caused--but why should I disturb your
equanimity? I am not superstitious--ma, chi sa?--some of you may be."

"I see what you mean!" interrupted Salustri, quickly. "We are thirteen
at table!"

CHAPTER XXIV.

At this announcement my guests looked furtively at each other, and I
could see they were counting up the fatal number for themselves. They
were undeniably clever, cultivated men of the world, but the
superstitious element was in their blood, and all, with the exception
perhaps of Freccia and the ever-cool Marquis D'Avencourt, were
evidently rendered uneasy by the fact now discovered. On Ferrari it had
a curious effect--he started violently and his face flushed. "Diabolo!"
he muttered, under his breath, and seizing his never-empty glass, he
swallowed its contents thirstily and quickly at one gulp as though
attacked by fever, and pushed away his plate with a hand that trembled
nervously. I, meanwhile, raised my voice and addressed my guests
cheerfully!

"Our distinguished friend Salustri is perfectly right, gentlemen. I
myself noticed the discrepancy in our number some time ago--but I knew
that you were all advanced thinkers, who had long since liberated
yourselves from the trammels of superstitious observances, which are
the result of priestcraft, and are now left solely to the vulgar.
Therefore I said nothing. The silly notion of any misfortune attending
the number thirteen arose, as you are aware, out of the story of the
Last Supper, and children and women may possibly still give credence to
the fancy that one out of thirteen at table must be a traitor and
doomed to die. But we men know better. None of us here to-night have
reason to put ourselves in the position of a Christ or a Judas--we are
all good friends and boon companions, and I cannot suppose for a moment
that this little cloud can possibly affect you seriously. Remember also
that this is Christmas-eve, and that according to the world's greatest
poet, Shakespeare,

"'Then no planet str