nt, too! The abbess
would much rather die in peace."

"At all events, I will go and offer my services. If the abbess prefers
to die in peace, she can answer to that effect. I will ask her what she
thinks about it."

"Ask her!" repeated Sor Tommaso. "Do you imagine that you could see her?
But what can you know? I tell you that last night she was muffled up in
her chair, and her face covered. It needed the grace of Heaven, that I
might feel her pulse! As for her tongue, God knows what it is like! I
have not seen it. Not so much as the tip of it! Not even her eyes did I
see. And to-day I was not to be admitted at all, because the abbess
would be in bed. Imagine to yourself, with blisters and sinapisms, and a
hundred things. I was only to speak with Sister Maria Addolorata, who is
her niece, you know, in the anteroom of the abbess's apartment. They
would not let you in. They would give you a bath of holy water through
the loophole of the convent door and say, 'Go away, sinner; this is a
religious house!' You know them very little."

"You are talking too much," observed Dalrymple, who had listened
attentively. "It is not good for you. Besides, since you are able to
speak, it would be better if you told me who stabbed you last night,
that I may go to the police, and have the person arrested, if possible."

"You do not know what you are saying," answered Sor Tommaso, with sudden
gravity. "The woman has relations--who could handle a knife better than
she."

And he turned his face away.

CHAPTER VI.

THE sun was high when Dalrymple left Sor Tommaso in charge of the old
woman-servant and went back to Stefanone's house to dress himself with
more care than he had bestowed upon his hasty toilet at dawn. And now
that he had plenty of time, he was even more careful of his appearance
than usual; for he had fully determined to attempt to take Sor Tommaso's
place in attendance upon the abbess. He therefore put on a coat of a
sober colour and brushed his straight red hair smoothly back from his
forehead, giving himself easily that extremely grave and trust-inspiring
air which distinguishes many Scotchmen, and supports their solid
qualities, while it seems to deny the possibility of any adventurous and
romantic tendency.

At that hour nobody was about the house, and Dalrymple, stick in hand,
sallied forth upon his expedition, looking for all the world as though
he were going to church in Edinburgh instead of meditating an