is different. One obeys the civil law from habit.
Between me and the _carabinieri_ there is nothing personal. Thus it is
easy for them to forget. Still, I shall not announce my approach, that I
am Giovanni l'Aguello, returned for arrest. I shall take good care to
keep out of their way."

"The eagle; that is a good name for you."

"And once I was as tame as a dove."

"But your man might be dead."

"He is not dead. If he were, something would tell me."

"It is a bad business, and I wish you no luck."

Giovanni smiled easily. Wishes seldom interfere with any one.

"I will double your wages," said Hillard, "if you will go where I go and
return with me when I come back to America."

A deprecating movement. "Money? It is nothing. I am rich, after my
kind."

"Are you still in the Church?"

"I confess regularly once a week. Oh, I am a good Catholic."

"Take yourself off. I am displeased with you."

The few days before sailing found Merrihew in a flutter of intense
excitement. He carried his letter of credit about in order to convince
himself during the day that he was really and truly going to Italy. He
forswore the bottle and the illumined royalty of the card-deck, and
spent his evenings "studying up" the lay of the land. To be sure, there
was one grand dinner the night before they sailed. Suppose, Merrihew
advanced, for the sake of argument, suppose the ship went down or he
never came back, or he was ill all the way over? There would be one good
dinner to remember, anyhow.

It was a drizzling, foggy morning when they drove down to the boat.
There are seldom bright sailing days in the forepart of March. But the
atmospheric effects made no impression on the volatile Merrihew. It was
all very interesting to him. And he had an eye for all things, from the
baskets of fruit and flowers, messengers with late orders from the
stores, repeated farewells, to the squalling babies in the steerage.
Even in the impudent shrieking tugboats he found a measure of delight;
and the blur on the water was inviting.

At four o'clock they were on the high seas, heading for the Azores.
Hillard was dreaming and Merrihew was studiously employed over a booklet
on _How to Speak Italian in One Day_. There was a moderate sea on.

By and by Giovanni, who had spent most of the time arranging the luggage
in the adjoining staterooms, came up on deck. He had two packets of
letters and telegrams. One he gave to Merrihew and the other to his
ma