nt of view."

"I believe I am clever enough to meet any contingency of that order."

"I give up," said Worth despondently. "But your princess must be a very
dear friend for you to take such liberties with her name."

"She appreciates a jest as thoroughly as I do; moreover, she will stand
by me in anything I may do. To-morrow morning, then. We shall go direct
to Florence and engage carriages to take us out to the Villa Ariadne. We
are all capable enough actors to carry out the venture successfully. And
now, to relieve Mr. Worth's chivalrous mind, I shall reclaim my pendant.
You will doubtless have enough money to forward yourselves to Florence.
Once you arrive there, you will leave the further burdens upon my
shoulders. Come, Kitty, we must be going. I know that I can rely upon
you gentlemen to enter with full spirit into the adventure."

"We are all crazy, but who cares?" O'Mally cried. But he trembled in his
boots, and thought vainly of a certain comfortable chop-house on old
Broadway.

The three men bowed ceremoniously. Worth opened the door for the women,
and when it closed after them he turned savagely toward O'Mally.

"You--_ass_!"

"There are others!" retorted O'Mally, afire. "You agreed; so drop it.
But what the devil are we going to do?"

"That's the question!" Smith got out his pipe.

"We are all going to the Villa Ariadne, and from there to jail!" And
Worth flung out of the salon.

"Jail," mused O'Mally. "Blame me, if I don't believe he's right!"

CHAPTER XVII

GIOVANNI

It is in early morning that one should discover the Piazza San Marco.
Few travelers, always excepting the Teutonic pilgrims, are up and about;
and there is room for one's elbows in the great quadrangle. The doves
are hungry then; and they alight on your hands, your arms, your
shoulders, and even your hat. They are greedy and wise besides. Hidden
among the statues above the arcades and in the cornices of the
cathedral, they watch you approach the vender of corn. In a moment they
are fluttering about you like an autumn storm of leaves, subsiding
quickly; blue-grey doves with white under-wings and coral feet. During
the season the Venetian photographers are kept busy printing from
amateur films. For who is so indifferent as not to wish to be snapped a
few times with the doves forming a heavenly halo above one's head, one's
body in a sentimental pose, and one's eyes looking straight into the
camera? Well, well; this is as n