s head bent. Once he stopped and shook his fist in the air as
though threatening some one. He let himself in at his door with a
private key--and I saw him no more. I felt that he would not come out
again for some time. And as I moved away to return here, I heard a
sound as of terrible weeping."

"And that is all, Vincenzo?"

"That is all, eccellenza."

I was silent. There was something in the simple narration that touched
me, though I remained as determinately relentless as ever. After a few
moments I said:

"You have done well, Vincenzo. You are aware how grossly this young man
has insulted me--and that his injurious treatment can only be wiped out
in one way. That way is already arranged. You can set out those pistols
you cleaned."

Vincenzo obeyed--but as he lifted the heavy case of weapons and set
them on the table, he ventured to remark, timidly:

"The eccellenza knows it is now Christmas-day?"

"I am quite aware of the fact," I said somewhat frigidly.

In nowise daunted he went on, "Coming back just now I saw the big
Nicolo--the eccellenza has doubtless seen him often?--he is a
vine-grower, and they say he is the largest man in Naples--three months
since he nearly killed his brother--ebbene! To-night that same big
Nicolo is drinking Chianti with that same brother, and both shouted
after me as I passed, 'Hola! Vincenzo Flamma! all is well between us
because it is the blessed Christ's birthday.'" Vincenzo stopped and
regarded me wistfully.

"Well!" I said, calmly, "what has the big Nicolo or his brother to do
with me?"

My valet hesitated--looked up--then down--finally he said, simply, "May
the saints preserve the eccellenza from all harm!"

I smiled gravely. "Thank you, my friend! I understand what you mean.
Have no fear for me. I am now going to lie down and rest till five
o'clock or thereabouts--and I advise you to do the same. At that time
you can bring me some coffee."

And I nodded kindly to him as I left him and entered my sleeping
apartment, where I threw myself on the bed, dressed as I was. I had no
intention of sleeping--my mind was too deeply engrossed by all I had
gone through. I could enter into Guido's feelings--had I not suffered
as he was now suffering?--nay! more than he--for HE, at any rate, would
not be buried alive! I should take care of that! HE would not have to
endure the agony of breaking loose from the cold grasp of the grave to
come back to life and find his name slandered,