, at once,
at once, and in Jeanne's carriage, because Signora Albacina could not
have her own at the present moment. She herself gave the address to
the coachman, an address with which Jeanne was not familiar. She would
explain on the way. The carriage started off once more.

Ah! Signora Albacina had forgotten her visiting-cards! She stopped the
carriage, but, looking at her watch, saw they would lose too much time.
Drive on! Jeanne was trembling with impatience. Well? Well? Where
were they going? _Ecco!_ They were going to see Cardinal----! Jeanne
shuddered. To see Cardinal----? This Cardinal had the reputation of
being one of the fiercest non-concessionists. Signora Albacina really
must see him, and a quarter of an hour later she might not find him.
Ah, what a complicated affair! She could not explain everything in a
few words. The object of the visit was, of course, still that for which
Donna Rosetta Albacina had laboured for three days, her ostensible
reason for so doing being the interest she took in the ideas and the
person of the Saint of Jenne; her real reason being the pleasure she
took in managing an intrigue, without scruples of conscience. She had
taken a fancy to Jeanne at Vena di Fonte Alta, but knew nothing of her
past. She suspected her of being in love with the Saint, but believed
hers to be a mystic love, born on hearing him speak in the "Catacombs"
of Via della Vite. She was convinced that Jeanne had had a hand in his
disappearance from Villa Mayda, that she knew his hiding-place, and did
not wish to disclose it, having promised secrecy to his friends. But
Jeanne had little confidence in the lady, who seemed to her frivolous,
and who was--this she could not forget--the wife of a powerful enemy,
and she had repeatedly assured her that she did not know. Jeanne's want
of confidence offended her a little because really she, Donna Rosetta,
wife of an Excellency, was risking much; but after all her vanity was
staked on this game, in which the winnings were the permanent freedom of
the Saint of Jenne in Rome, and she was determined to go on with it.

A truly complicated affair then! In the meantime, up to Friday night
the police had not discovered the Saint's place of refuge. Ah, yes! they
believed he was in Rome. Here Donna Rosetta paused, hoping Jeanne would
speak. Not a word. She admitted, continuing her discourse, that
her husband might have some suspicion of the intrigue which she was
concealing from h