e
lieutenant, there was apparent in their depths a large measure of
contempt. A lieutenant in the Royal Italian Cavalry can afford to be
generous in many things, but he cannot afford to swallow contempt from a
donkey-driver. The signorina was not present this time; there was no
reason why he should not punish the fellow. He dropped his hand on Tony's
shoulder--on his collar to be exact--and whirled him about. The action
was accompanied by some vigorous colloquial Italian--the gist of it being
that Tony was to mind his own business and mend his manners. The
lieutenant had a muscular arm, and Tony turned. But Tony had not played
quarterback four years for nothing; he tackled low, and the next moment
the lieutenant was rolling down the bank of a dried stream that stretched
at their feet. No one likes to roll down a dusty stony bank, much less
an officer in immaculate uniform on the eve of paying a formal call upon
ladies. He picked himself up and looked at Tony; he was quite beyond
speech.

Tony looked back and smiled. He swept off his hat with a deferential bow.
"_Scusi_," he murmured, and jumped over the wall into the grounds of
Villa Rosa.

The lieutenant gasped. If anything could have been more insultingly
inadequate to the situation than that one word _scusi_, it did not at the
moment occur to him. Jeering, blasphemy, vituperation, he might have
excused, but this! The shock jostled him back to a thinking state.

Here was no ordinary donkey-driver. The hand that had rested for a moment
on his arm was the hand of a gentleman. The man's face was vaguely,
elusively familiar; if the lieutenant had not seen him before, he had at
least seen his picture. The man had pretended he could not talk Italian,
but--_scusi_--it came out very pat when it was needed.

An idea suddenly assailed Lieutenant di Ferara. He scrambled up the bank
and skirted the wall, almost on a run, until he reached the place where
his horse was tied. Two minutes later he was off at a gallop, headed for
the house of the prefect of police of Valedolmo.

CHAPTER XVI

Tony jumped over the wall. He might have landed in the midst of a family
party; but in so much luck was with him. He found the _Farfalla_ bobbing
at the foot of the water steps with Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel already
embarked. They were waiting for Constance, who had obligingly run back to
the house to fetch the rainbow shawl (finished that afternoon) as Miss
Hazel distrusted the Ita