mme. He met Casalverde on the following
morning at seven o'clock, and at precisely a quarter past, he left him
dead on the field. He breakfasted with his seconds at half-past eight,
and left Rome with them for Paris at ten o'clock. He had selected two
French officers who were about to return to their home, in order not to
inconvenience any of his friends by obliging them to leave the country;
which showed that, even in moments of great excitement, Count Spicca was
thoughtful of others.

When the surgeon had dressed Giovanni's wounds, he left the father and
son together. Giovanni lay upon a couch in his own sitting-room, eating
his breakfast as best he could with one hand. The old Prince paced the
floor, commenting from time to time upon the events of the morning.

"It is just as well that you did not kill him, Giovanni," he remarked;
"it would have been a nuisance to have been obliged to go away just now."

Giovanni did not answer.

"Of course, duelling is a great sin, and is strictly forbidden by our
religion," said the Prince suddenly. "But then--"

"Precisely," returned Giovanni. "We nevertheless cannot always help
ourselves."

"I was going to say," continued his father, "that it is, of course, very
wicked, and if one is killed in a duel, one probably goes straight into
hell. But then--it was worth something to see how you sent that fellow's
foil flying through the window!"

"It is a very simple trick. If you will take a foil, I will teach it to
you."

"Presently, presently; when you have finished your breakfast. Tell me,
why did you say, 'more broken glass'?"

Giovanni bit his lip, remembering his imprudence.

"I hardly know. I believe it suggested something to my mind. One says all
sorts of foolish things in moments of excitement."

"It struck me as a very odd remark," answered the Prince, still walking
about. "By the bye," he added, pausing before the writing-table, "here is
that letter you wrote for me. Do you want me to read it?"

"No," said Giovanni, with a laugh. "It is of no use now. It would seem
absurd, since I am alive and well. It was only a word of farewell."

The Prince laughed too, and threw the sealed letter into the fire.

"The last of the Saracinesca is not dead yet," he said. "Giovanni, what
are we to say to the gossips? All Rome will be ringing with this affair
before night. Of course, you must stay at home for a few days, or you
will catch cold, in your arm. I will go out and carr