"

"But you must remember, Stefan," she said, eagerly, "that there was no
one in England who knew that former story. He could not imagine that I
was to be, unhappily, set free to go to my daughter--that I should be at
her side when this trouble fell on her--"

"Nevertheless," said he, gently interrupting her, "you have appealed to
us: we will inquire. It will be a delicate affair. If there has been any
complicity, any unfairness, to summon these men hither would be to make
firmer confederates of them than ever. If one could get at them
separately, individually--"

He kept pressing his white mustache into his teeth with his forefinger.

"If Calabressa were not such a talker," he said, absently. "But he has
ingenuity, the feather-brained devil."

"Stefan, I could trust everything to Calabressa," she said.

"In the mean time," he said, "I will not detain you. If you remain at
the same hotel we shall be able to communicate with you. I presume your
carriage is outside?"

"It is waiting for us a little way off."

He accompanied them into the tessellated court-yard, but not to the
gate. He bade good-bye to his elder friend; then he took the younger
lady's hand and held it, and regarded her.

"Figliuola mia," he said, with a kindly glance, "I pity you if you have
to suffer. We will hope for better things: if it is impossible, you have
a brave heart."

When they had left he went up the marble staircase and along the empty
corridor until he reached a certain room.

"Granaglia, can you tell me where our friend Calabressa may happen to be
at this precise moment?"

"At Brindisi, I believe, Excellenza."

"At Brindisi still. The devil of a fellow is not so impatient as I had
expected. Ah, well. Have the goodness to send for him, friend Granaglia,
and bid him come with speed."

"Most willingly, Excellenza."

CHAPTER XLIX.

AN EMISSARY.

One warm, still afternoon Calabressa was walking quickly along the
crowded quays of Naples, when he was beset by a more than usually
importunate beggar--a youth of about twelve, almost naked.

"Something for bread, signore--for the love of God--my father taken to
heaven, my mother starving--bread, signore--"

"To the devil with you!" said Calabressa.

"May you burst!" replied the polite youth, and he tried to kick
Calabressa's legs and make off at the same time.

This feat he failed in, so that, as he was departing, Calabressa hit him
a cuff on the side of the head wh