e of
the Roman character than by any chain of evidence.

Lord Redin had gone out, he was told. It was impossible to say with any
certainty whether this were true or not, and Griggs wrote a few words on
his card, sealed the latter in an envelope, and left it to be delivered
to the Scotchman. Then he went back to the Via della Frezza, determined
to renew his attempt to see Francesca Campodonico, at a later hour.

At the door of the little wine shop Stefanone was seated on one of the
rush stools, his hat tilted over his eyes, and his white-stockinged legs
crossed. He was smoking and looking down, but he recognized Griggs's
step at some distance, and raised his eyes. Griggs nodded to him
familiarly, passing along on the other side of the narrow street, and he
saw Stefanone's expression. There was a look of cunning and amusement in
the contraction of the pale lids, which the younger man did not like.
Stefanone spoke to him across the street.

"You are well returned, Signore," he said, in the common phrase of
greeting after an absence.

The words were civil enough, but there was something of mockery in the
tone. Griggs might not have noticed it at any other time, but his
thoughts had been occupied with Stefanone during the last two hours,
and he resented what sounded like insolence. The tone implied that he
had been on a fool's errand, and that Stefanone knew it. He said
nothing, but stood still and scrutinized the man's face. There was an
unwonted colour about the cheek bones, and the keen eyes sparkled under
the brim of the soft hat. Stefanone had a solid head, and was not given
to drinking, especially in the morning; but Griggs guessed that to-day
he had drunk more than usual. The man's next words convinced him of the
fact.

"Signore," he said, slowly rising, "will you favour us by tasting the
wine I brought last week? There is no one in the shop yet, for it is
early. If you will, we can drink a glass."

"Thank you," answered Griggs. "I have not eaten yet."

"Then Sor Angoscia did not ask you to breakfast!" laughed Stefanone,
insolently. "At midday, too! It was just the hour! But perhaps he
invited you to his supper, for it is ordered."

And he laughed again. Griggs glanced at him once more, and then went
quietly on towards his own door. He saw that the man had drunk too much,
and the idea of bandying words in the attempt to rebuke him was
distasteful. Griggs had very rarely lost his temper, so far as to strike
a