oft. Altieri's plan is to conceal a number of men in your
apartment this last night that you are to sleep there. When all is quiet
they are to gag you and your husband, and carry you downstairs to Don
Alberto's carriage. If you attempt to go home to the palace the scheme
will inevitably succeed.'

Ortensia stood leaning back against the pilaster very white. Gambardella
continued.

'The Maestro asked me if I knew of any place of safety to which you
could both go to-night before leaving Rome to-morrow. I told him that my
friend and I have just hired a small house in a quiet part of the city,
which is at your service, especially as we have not yet moved to it. He
begged me to take you there at once before Don Alberto can leave the
church, and possibly see you driving away with me.'

'But my husband----' interrupted Ortensia.

'My friend Trombin is already at the door of the sacristy, and will
bring him to you as soon as he can get away. It will be nearly half an
hour before the Benediction is over. But there is no time to be lost.
Ah--I forgot! He wished Cucurullo to hasten to the palace and get his
manuscripts and his lute, and any small necessaries for you that can be
hidden under a cloak. Your man can get there, and be on his way back
before Don Alberto can be at home. Even if the men are already concealed
in the apartment they will not trouble Cucurullo for fear of betraying
their master. As for your woman, Altieri has probably had her arrested
and taken away.'

Gambardella had purposely told his story so that Cucurullo could hear
it, and had glanced at him from time to time to be sure that he
understood.

'Are you afraid to go alone?' asked the Bravo, not at all
contemptuously.

'No, sir. I am not afraid. Where shall I find my master when I have got
the things?'

'Do you know where Santa Prassede is, in that narrow street near Santa
Maria Maggiore?'

'Certainly, sir. Shall I wait at the side door of the church? It is a
lonely place.'

'Yes. Be there as soon as you can. The house is close by, but I could
not easily make you understand which it is.' Gambardella turned to
Ortensia. 'Will you come with me?' he asked. 'My friend and I have a
carriage, and it is at the main door.'

Ortensia laid her hand on the Bravo's arm, not doubting that she was
obeying her husband's wishes for her safety and his. It would have taken
more than Don Alberto's rude assertion to make her and Stradella
distrust the men who ha