cting me. The story will be all over the
place by to-morrow, and when I meet a spy he will only think: 'It's
mad Diego, that confessed his sins in the market-place.' That is an
advantage gained, surely."

"Yes, I see. Still, I wish the thing could have been done without
fooling the Cardinal. He's too good to have that sort of trick played on
him."

"I thought myself he seemed fairly decent," the Gadfly lazily assented.

"Nonsense, Sandro! We don't want Cardinals here!" said Domenichino.
"And if Monsignor Montanelli had taken that post in Rome when he had the
chance of getting it, Rivarez couldn't have fooled him."

"He wouldn't take it because he didn't want to leave his work here."

"More likely because he didn't want to get poisoned off by
Lambruschini's agents. They've got something against him, you may depend
upon it. When a Cardinal, especially such a popular one, 'prefers to
stay' in a God-forsaken little hole like this, we all know what that
means--don't we, Rivarez?"

The Gadfly was making smoke-rings. "Perhaps it is a c-c-case of a
'b-b-broken and contrite heart,'" he remarked, leaning his head back to
watch them float away. "And now, men, let us get to business."

They began to discuss in detail the various plans which had been formed
for the smuggling and concealment of weapons. The Gadfly listened with
keen attention, interrupting every now and then to correct sharply some
inaccurate statement or imprudent proposal. When everyone had finished
speaking, he made a few practical suggestions, most of which were
adopted without discussion. The meeting then broke up. It had been
resolved that, at least until he was safely back in Tuscany, very
late meetings, which might attract the notice of the police, should
be avoided. By a little after ten o'clock all had dispersed except the
doctor, the Gadfly, and Domenichino, who remained as a sub-committee
for the discussion of special points. After a long and hot dispute,
Domenichino looked up at the clock.

"Half-past eleven; we mustn't stop any longer or the night-watchman may
see us."

"When does he pass?" asked the Gadfly.

"About twelve o'clock; and I want to be home before he comes.
Good-night, Giordani. Rivarez, shall we walk together?"

"No; I think we are safer apart. Then I shall see you again?"

"Yes; at Castel Bolognese. I don't know yet what disguise I shall be in,
but you have the password. You leave here to-morrow, I think?"

The Gadfly was