left the room. It was not until the door was shut that
the Cardinal spoke again.

'His Holiness expressed to me only last night his august desire to hear
your husband sing, and regretted his inability to go to the Lateran for
that purpose. His Holiness has now spent a good night and it may be
hoped that he will be able to rise this afternoon. Your husband shall
have an opportunity of singing to him before supper. That is all I can
manage for him. He must do the rest.'

'Thank you, thank you!' cried Ortensia gratefully. 'Only----'

'What, madam?'

'How will he be able to sing, after such a night, if he is kept in
prison? He will have a sore throat from the dampness, he will be worn
out with anxiety, and weak for want of food! What chance can he possibly
have of moving the Pope to pity?'

'I have attended to that, madam,' the Cardinal answered, tapping the
letter that lay under his hand. 'The Maestro shall lack nothing which
can restore his strength and his voice.'

He rang his little bell twice in quick succession, and at the same time
he wrote an address on the folded paper. A man in black entered before
he had finished. Then he scattered red sand on the writing, and poured
it back into the sand-box.

'To Tor di Nona,' he said. 'Tell the messenger to gallop.'

The man was gone in an instant.

'You will find a chair downstairs,' the churchman said. 'The men are to
take you to your apartment in my palace.'

'But if the porter----' Ortensia began to object.

'He will hardly venture to turn my liveries from my own door, madam. Go
to your rooms and rest. You will find that your maid has left you. She
fled in terror last night, and left Rome an hour ago in the coach for
Naples. I saw no reason for having her stopped, but if she has robbed
you I will have her taken. Your husband has a queer hunch-backed
man-servant called Cucurullo; he looks like Guidi, I remember, the young
poet who ran away from our royal guest the other day.'

The Cardinal smiled vaguely, and rubbed his chin with his ring.

'He is downstairs,' Ortensia said. 'He is a good creature,' she added
quickly, fearing lest the great man was about to tell her something to
Cucurullo's discredit.

'An excellent fellow,' the Cardinal assented readily. 'I was going to
say that if your husband wished to part with him, I should be glad to
take him into my service. You will not suspect me of entertaining any
foolish superstition about the good fortune which