d good
news to tell.

"Ah, at last! I was beginning to think something must have happened to
you!"

"I thought it safer not to write, and I couldn't get back sooner."

"You have just arrived?"

"Yes; I am straight from the diligence; I looked in to tell you that the
affair is all settled."

"Do you mean that Bailey has really consented to help?"

"More than to help; he has undertaken the whole thing,--packing,
transports,--everything. The rifles will be hidden in bales of
merchandise and will come straight through from England. His partner,
Williams, who is a great friend of his, has consented to see the
transport off from Southampton, and Bailey will slip it through the
custom house at Leghorn. That is why I have been such a long time;
Williams was just starting for Southampton, and I went with him as far
as Genoa."

"To talk over details on the way?"

"Yes, as long as I wasn't too sea-sick to talk about anything."

"Are you a bad sailor?" she asked quickly, remembering how Arthur had
suffered from sea-sickness one day when her father had taken them both
for a pleasure-trip.

"About as bad as is possible, in spite of having been at sea so much.
But we had a talk while they were loading at Genoa. You know Williams,
I think? He's a thoroughly good fellow, trustworthy and sensible; so is
Bailey, for that matter; and they both know how to hold their tongues."

"It seems to me, though, that Bailey is running a serious risk in doing
a thing like this."

"So I told him, and he only looked sulky and said: 'What business is
that of yours?' Just the sort of thing one would expect him to say. If
I met Bailey in Timbuctoo, I should go up to him and say: 'Good-morning,
Englishman.'"

"But I can't conceive how you managed to get their consent; Williams,
too; the last man I should have thought of."

"Yes, he objected strongly at first; not on the ground of danger,
though, but because the thing is 'so unbusiness-like.' But I managed to
win him over after a bit. And now we will go into details."

*****

When the Gadfly reached his lodgings the sun had set, and the blossoming
pyrus japonica that hung over the garden wall looked dark in the fading
light. He gathered a few sprays and carried them into the house. As he
opened the study door, Zita started up from a chair in the corner and
ran towards him.

"Oh, Felice; I thought you were never coming!"

His first impulse was to ask her sharply what business she