eets, he told me that the lace had been
stolen some months since from one of the cardinals. The police had
suspected for a long time that it was concealed somewhere in the Ghetto;
but in consequence of the hostile feeling which had been apparent there
for many months, they did not like to commence an official search in
that district without sufficient evidence; this evidence had been
obtained that very day through one of those ill-conditioned, ill-omened
spies, who are to be found connected with the police of every country.
From the description which he gave of the man, I could not for a moment
doubt that it was Emmanuel. He told me very frankly the precise hour at
which the informer came to him, and I found that it was soon after I had
left the shop.

There was a slight stoppage caused by the carriages which were driving
up to the Teatro d'Apolion, the present Opera. People looked curiously
into ours, which was well-known as that of the chief of the police. How
wonderful are the circles into which the interests of society are
divided; how many currents are eddying and bubbling in their course
before the mighty river of human existence is formed; each stream so
perfect in itself, so separate from every other, yet ever flowing
towards the same wide fathomless sea. Of the gay and the happy whom I
passed, how few cared for this poor girl, or how few would have cared
had they even heard the tale! I felt myself almost criminal from the
circumstance of having been the cause of this misery to another. My
whole thoughts were fixed on this one object. Before the fulness of my
imagination the prison-walls disappeared, and I saw nothing but the
cells, and listened to the voices of the many to whom the voice of the
comforter is never heard. We were passing over the yellow Tiber, but I
heeded not its associations, either with history or with my early
schoolboy days, their studies and their struggles. When the mind is full
of one object, all others become invisible, even to the senses. The
light of the mind is greater than the light of the body.

We arrived at last at the gates of St. Angelo, the tomb of the dead
Pagan and of the living Christian. After certain stern, painful
formalities were gone through, in the most matter-of-fact way, between
my companion and the commander of the strong post which was on guard, we
entered the mighty precincts, and the gates closed behind us. I had then
time to marvel at the massiveness of the str