e of the most
beautiful young creatures he had ever seen; and he flattered himself
that he had seen many. Gambardella, on the other hand, wore his most
sour look, for he was disgusted to find that the impression left by his
interview with the Mother Superior was not so ephemeral as he had
believed it to be; and being angry with himself he wished that the whole
business were finished, that Stradella were dead and Ortensia safe in
her uncle's hands, or that Ortensia were already killed and that
Stradella had been delivered to his Venetian admirer bound hand and foot
and gagged, according to contract, so that Gambardella might apply his
mind to other matters.

But Trombin was not thinking only of the lady. The humour of the whole
affair struck him as delightful in the extreme, and he smiled to
himself, showing his sharp white teeth, when he thought of the tricks
that had been played on the Legate and the Ursuline nuns in less than
twenty-four hours. It was most especially amusing to think how that
cut-throat Gambardella, the weight of whose sins would have staggered
the Grand Penitentiary himself, had played Old Morality to the Mother
Superior, and had actually been the one to suggest a proper marriage as
the only virtuous solution of the difficulty.

There was not much time for such reflections, however, for the distance
to the inn was short, and when they reached it the young couple's
travelling-carriage was ready and the horses were saddled for the Bravi,
who were already dressed for riding. So there was nothing to hinder them
all from starting at once, since the score was already paid.

In less than half an hour after they had left the church, the whole
party was well outside the city gates and on the road to Rome.

CHAPTER XIII

A month had passed since Stradella and Ortensia had fled from Venice,
and after their adventure in Ferrara no hand had been raised against
them on their way to Rome. They had at first lodged in the ancient
hostelry at the Sign of the Bear, which still stands, and is not only
called the Orso inn as it was hundreds of years ago, but has given its
name to the street in which it is situated. It stands at the entrance to
that part of the city which was in old times dominated by the Orsini,
who undoubtedly got their name from some ancient stone or marble bear
that was built into the outer wall of their stronghold; but whether the
old inn was called after the image itself, or after the O