serve him more than money,
if you could make him out. I have written some of the names he is known
by on this paper, and he can be traced through Bolton, the banker at
Naples. Tell him to seek out all the places old Giacomo Lami worked at.
He never painted his daughter Enrichetta in a fresco, that he didn't
hide gold, or jewels, or papers of value somewhere near. Tell him, above
all, to find out where Giacomo's last work was executed. You can say
that you got this commission from me years ago in Monte Video; and
when you tell him it was Niccolo Baldassare gave it, he'll believe you.
There. I have written Giacomo Lami on that paper, so that you need not
trust to your memory. But why do I waste time with these things? You'll
never set foot on shore, lad--never."

"I am just as certain that I shall. If that son of yours was only as
certain of winning his estate, I'd call him a lucky fellow. But see,
they are almost dressed. They 'll be soon ready to march us home. Rest
your foot next this rock till I smash the link, and when you see them
coming roll this heavy stone down into the sea. I 'll make for the south
side of the island, and, once night falls, take to the water. Good-bye,
old fellow. I 'll not forget you--never, never," and he wrung the old
man's hand in a strong grasp. The chain gave way at the second blow, and
he was gone.

Just as the last flickering light was fading from the sky, three cannon
shots, in quick succession, announced that a prisoner had made his
escape, and patrols issued forth in every direction to scour the island,
while boats were manned to search the caves and crevasses along the
shore.

The morning's telegram to the Minister of Police ran thus: "No. 11 made
his escape last evening, filing his ankle-iron. The prisoner, 97, to
whom he was linked, declares that he saw him leap into the sea and sink.
This statement is not believed; but up to this, no trace of the missing
man has been discovered."

In the afternoon of the same day, Temple Bramleigh learned the news, and
hastened home to the hotel to inform his chief. Lord Culduff was not in
the best of tempers. Some independent member below the gangway had
given notice of a question he intended to ask the Secretary for Foreign
Affairs, and the leader of a Radical morning paper had thus paraphrased
the inquiry: "What Mr. Bechell wishes to ascertain, in fact, amounts
to this,--'Could not the case of Samuel Rogers have been treated by our
residen