cast, "I
was told that when great trouble came upon me or mine I was to come
here--to Naples--and I should find myself under the protection of the
greatest power in Europe. My name--my mother's name--was to be enough.
And this is the result, that a brave man, who is our friend and dear to
us, is threatened with a dishonorable death, and the very power that
imposed it on him--the power that was said to be invincible, and wise,
and generous--is unable or unwilling to stir hand or foot!"

"A dishonorable death, signorina?"

"Oh, signore," she said, with a proud indignation, "do not speak to me
as if I were a child. Cannot one see what is behind all this secrecy?
Cannot one see that you know well what has been done in England by your
friends and colleagues? You put this man, who is too proud, too noble,
to withdraw from his word, on a service that involves the certain
sacrifice of his life! and there is no honor attached to this
sacrifice--so he himself has admitted. What does that mean?--what can it
mean--but assassination?"

He drew back his head a little bit, as if startled, and stared at her.

"My dear young lady--"

But her courage had not returned to her for nothing. She raised the
beautiful, dark, pathetic eyes, and regarded him with an indignant
fearlessness.

"That is what any one might guess," she said. "But there is more.
Signore, you and your friends meditate the assassination of the King of
Italy! and you call on an Englishman--an Englishman who has no love of
secret and blood-stained ways--"

"Stefan!" the mother cried, quickly, and she placed her hand on the
general's arm; "do not be angry. Do not heed her--she is a child--she is
quick to speak. Believe me, there are other reasons for our coming to
you."

"Yes, yes, my friend Natalie; all in good time. But I am most anxious to
put myself right with the signorina your daughter first of all. Now, my
dear young lady," he said, taking her hand, and putting it on his arm,
and gently compelling her to walk with him toward the opener space where
the sea-air was cool, "I again apologize to you for having spoken
unwittingly--"

"Oh, signore, do not trouble about that! It is no matter of courtesy or
politeness that is in the question: it is the life of one of one's
dearest friends. There are other times for politeness."

"Stefan," the mother interposed, anxiously, "do not heed her--she is
agitated."

"My dear Natalie," said the general, smiling, "I admir