oney. That letter of credit--so you call it?--is
with my cousin in Sorrento."

"How much will you need to get to Rome?"

"Hold on, Jack," interposed Merrihew. "I'll take care of the financial
end. I won money at Monte Carlo, Giovanni; so it will hurt nobody if you
take five hundred francs."

Giovanni scorned to hide his tears. Ah, these Americans! Who could match
them for impulsive generosity? "I will pay it back," he said.

"No, I give it to you, Giovanni. It will ease my conscience of the sin
of gambling."

"Both of you will live to a good old age," said Giovanni prophetically.
"Good men are needed in the world, and God doesn't take all of them
young."

"And the man?" Hillard could not refrain from putting this question.

Giovanni looked down. "The signore told me never to speak of that
again."

"So I did," replied Hillard. "But all is changed now."

"Do you think so?" Giovanni did not smile.

"Go back to your hills with your daughter and leave vengeance in the
hands of God. Forget this man who has wronged you. You are free now; and
with care and love you may bring happiness back to her. Forget."

"If he does not cross my path; and if she lives. I have suffered too
greatly to forgive and forget. I promise not to seek him."

This was a great victory, and Hillard thrust out his hand. Giovanni did
not take it.

"No, signore, I have only promised not to seek him."

Merrihew, to divert the trend of conversation, counted out five hundred
francs. "Here's your money, Giovanni."

"Thank you!" Giovanni put the bills away. In the best of times he was
not voluble. "I shall now leave Venice at once. I have friends in
Fiesole, near Florence."

"Good-by, then, Giovanni. Take good care of yourself," said Hillard.

"And you will visit me when you come to Rome?" asked Giovanni earnestly.

"Surely."

The old man went down to the street with them. They were so kind. He
hated the thought of losing them. But let them come to the Sabines;
there would be wine in plenty, and tobacco, and cherries. He remained
standing in the door till they took the turn for the bridge. They waved
their hands cheerily and vanished from sight. They never saw Giovanni
again; yet his hand was to work out the great epoch in Hillard's
destiny.

"Poor devil!" said Merrihew. "You remember, Jack, that I once went in
for medicine?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have some part of the gift yet. That little girl will not live
three months; heart. There i