n
her eyes. He had spoken sharply to Giovanni about it, and told him he had
behaved in an ungentlemanly manner--whereupon Giovanni had answered
that it was none of his business; an altercation had ensued in a remote
room in the Frangipani palace, and Giovanni had lost his temper and taken
Del Ferice by the throat, and otherwise greatly insulted him. The result
had been the duel in which Del Ferice had been nearly killed. There was a
show of truth about this story, and it was told in such a manner as to
make Del Ferice appear as the injured party. Indeed, whichever tale were
true, there was no doubt that the two men had disliked each other for a
long time, and that they were both looking out for the opportunity of an
open disagreement.

Old Saracinesca appeared in the afternoon, and was surrounded by eager
questioners of all sorts. The fact of his having served his own son in
the capacity of second excited general astonishment. Such a thing had
not been heard of in the annals of Roman society, and many ancient
wisdom-mongers severely censured the course he had pursued. Could
anything be more abominably unnatural? Was it possible to conceive of the
hard-heartedness of a man who could stand quietly and see his son
risk his life? Disgraceful!

The old Prince either would not tell what he knew, or had no information
to give. The latter theory was improbable. Some one made a remark to that
effect.

"But, Prince," the man said, "would you second your own son in an affair
without knowing the cause of the quarrel?"

"Sir," returned the old man, proudly, "my son asked my assistance; I did
not sell it to him for his confidence." People knew the old man's
obstinacy, and had to be satisfied with his short answers, for he was
himself as quarrelsome as a Berserker or as one of his own irascible
ancestors.

He met Donna Tullia in the street. She stopped her carriage, and beckoned
him to come to her. She looked paler than Saracinesca had ever seen her,
and was much excited.

"How could you let them fight?" were her first words.

"It could not be helped. The quarrel was too serious. No one would more
gladly have prevented it than I; but as my son had so desperately
insulted Del Ferice, he was bound to give him satisfaction."

"Satisfaction!" cried Donna Tullia. "Do you call it satisfaction to cut a
man's throat? What was the real cause of the quarrel?"

"I do not know."

"Do not tell me that--I do not believe you," answered