."

"Sacconi was asking you a question," said Martini gruffly. The Gadfly's
behaviour seemed to him an absurd piece of affectation, and he was
annoyed that Gemma should have been tactless enough to follow his
example. It was not like her.

The Gadfly disclaimed all knowledge of the state of feeling in Pisa,
explaining that he had been there "only on a holiday." He then plunged
at once into an animated discussion, first of agricultural prospects,
then of the pamphlet question; and continued pouring out a flood of
stammering talk till the others were quite tired. He seemed to find some
feverish delight in the sound of his own voice.

When the meeting ended and the members of the committee rose to go,
Riccardo came up to Martini.

"Will you stop to dinner with me? Fabrizi and Sacconi have promised to
stay."

"Thanks; but I was going to see Signora Bolla home."

"Are you really afraid I can't get home by myself?" she asked, rising
and putting on her wrap. "Of course he will stay with you, Dr. Riccardo;
it's good for him to get a change. He doesn't go out half enough."

"If you will allow me, I will see you home," the Gadfly interposed; "I
am going in that direction."

"If you really are going that way----"

"I suppose you won't have time to drop in here in the course of the
evening, will you, Rivarez?" asked Riccardo, as he opened the door for
them.

The Gadfly looked back over his shoulder, laughing. "I, my dear fellow?
I'm going to see the variety show!"

"What a strange creature that is; and what an odd affection for
mountebanks!" said Riccardo, coming back to his visitors.

"Case of a fellow-feeling, I should think," said Martini; "the man's a
mountebank himself, if ever I saw one."

"I wish I could think he was only that," Fabrizi interposed, with a
grave face. "If he is a mountebank I am afraid he's a very dangerous
one."

"Dangerous in what way?"

"Well, I don't like those mysterious little pleasure trips that he is so
fond of taking. This is the third time, you know; and I don't believe he
has been in Pisa at all."

"I suppose it is almost an open secret that it's into the mountains he
goes," said Sacconi. "He has hardly taken the trouble to deny that he
is still in relations with the smugglers he got to know in the Savigno
affair, and it's quite natural he should take advantage of their
friendship to get his leaflets across the Papal frontier."

"For my part," said Riccardo; "what I wanted to