nd, guided by the servant, quitted the palazzo. In the street he
stood for a moment like one utterly bewildered. It was plain that the
elder Massetti had fully made up his mind as to Giovanni's guilt, and if
the father deserted his son what hope was there that the cold, heartless
world would not follow his example? Maximilian was in despair. At the
very first step in his mission he had been unceremoniously and firmly
halted. What was he to do? Should he acknowledge himself finally
defeated because his initial attempt had failed so disastrously? No;
that would be miserable cowardice! He would persist, he would make
further investigations. He had undertaken this work for Zuleika, to
restore happiness to her heart and light to her eyes, and he would not
abandon the task, no matter how arduous it might be, until he had
cleared Giovanni or obtained tangible, incontrovertible proof of his
guilt!

Fortified by this resolution M. Morrel returned to the Hotel de France.
Valentine met him with a look of anxious inquiry. He endeavoured to seem
cheerful, to make the best of the situation, but the effort was a
pitiful failure. He sank into a chair and said to his wife in a dejected
tone:

"I have seen the Count Massetti. He believes his son guilty and has
disowned him!"

Valentine seated herself beside her husband and tenderly took his hand.

"Maximilian," she said, "it is a bad beginning, I confess, but you know
the proverb and, I trust, the good ending will yet come!"

"It will not be our fault if it does not," replied her husband,
heroically. "At all events, we will do our best."

"And we shall succeed! I feel confident of that!"

"Thank you for those words, Valentine! You are a perfect enchantress and
have brought my dead hope to life!"

That evening the Morrels' decided to visit the Colosseum. They desired
to see the gigantic remains of that vast fabric of the Cassars by
moonlight, to inspect amid the silvery rays the crumbling courts and
galleries that ages agone had echoed with the proud tread of the elite
of barbaric old Rome! Conducted by a guide belonging to the Hotel de
France, they set out and were soon standing among the ruins of the great
amphitheatre. There they were seized upon by a special cicerone, who
seemed to consider the huge wreck of Flavius Vespasian's monument as his
particular property and who could not be shaken off. He joined forces
with the hotel guide and the twain, jabbering away industriously