ews to Worth?"

* * * * *

Hillard refused to canter, so the two walked their horses all the way
into Florence. Merrihew spoke but seldom and Hillard not at all. By now
the sun had gone down, and deep purple clouds swarmed across the blue
face of heaven, forecasting a storm.... It was not dishonorable for him
to love this woman, but it was not honorable for her to listen. Sonia
Hilda Grosvenor; that solved no corner of the puzzle.

"To-morrow," said Merrihew, "I'm going to look up the jail and engage
rooms ahead. It might be crowded."

Hillard raised his face and let a few drops of cooling rain patter on
his cheeks. "I love her, I love her!" he murmured.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DENOUEMENT

The morning sun poured over the hills, throwing huge shadows in the
gorge below. The stream, swollen by the heavy rains of the past night,
foamed and snarled along its ragged bed. The air was fresh and cool, and
the stately cypresses took on a deeper shade of green. Lizards scampered
over the damp stones about the porter's lodge or sought the patches of
golden sunshine, and insects busied themselves with the daily harvest.
O'Mally sniffed. As the wind veered intermittently there came to him the
perfume of the locust trees, now in full bloom, the flowers of which
resembled miniature cascades hanging in mid-air. Pietro rocked, his legs
crossed, his face blurred in the drifting tobacco smoke.

"No more tourists, Pietro."

"No." Pietro sighed, a ruminating light in his faded eyes.

"Did you ever see La Signorina before? Do you know anything about her?"

"Never! No!" answered Pietro, with the perfect candor of an accomplished
liar.

"Have you ever seen her Highness?"

"When she so," indicating a height about two feet from the ground.

"You said that you had never seen her."

"Meestake."

"How old would she be?"

Pietro wrinkled his brow, "Oh, _quaranta, cinquanta_; fifty-forty. Who
knows?"

"Fifty! How old are you?" suspiciously.

"_Settanta_; seventy."

"Well, you look it. But why hasn't the princess ever been here, when
it's so beautiful?"

"Woman."

"What woman?"

"La Principessa. Many villas, much money."

O'Mally kicked at one of the lizards. "I thought she might be young."

"No. But La Signorina-bah! they ar-r-r-rest her. _Patienza!_"

"You think so?"

"Wait."

"But her friend the princess will come to her assistance."

Pietro laughed scornfully, which showed