but it is not so!"

"Then what the mischief does he want here?" mused the Professor. "An
account of his money, I suppose. Oh, damn those meddlesome Italians who
set him free."

"I am sorry, but it is natural," he remarked aloud, wagging his head
sagely. "Five-and-twenty years is a devil of a time!"

"You will not misunderstand me, Professor," he went on almost
pleadingly. "You will not imagine for one moment that the 'Order of the
White Hyacinth' and everything connected with it, is not still dear to
me, very dear. I am an old man, and my time for usefulness is past. Yet
there is one demand which I have to make of the association which I have
faithfully served and suffered for. Doubtless you know full well what I
mean. Will you hear it now, or shall I wait and lay it before the
meeting to-night?"

"The latter, by all means," begged the Professor hastily. "They wouldn't
like it if you told me first. They'd feel hurt, I'm sure."

The Count bowed his head.

"So be it, then," he said gravely.

There was a short silence. The Professor, with his thumbs in his
waistcoat, gazed fixedly down the street.

"I don't see why they shouldn't share the storm," he mused. "He's small,
but he looks as though he might be awkward. I would very much rather
Martello and the others were here; Martello is a strong man."

There was a knock at the outside door, and Signor Bartlezzi peered
through the window.

"There they are!" he exclaimed. "I'll go and let them in myself. It
would be better to prepare them for your presence. Excuse me."

His visitor bowed, and resumed his seat.

"I await the pleasure of the Council," he said with dignity.

CHAPTER XII

"A FIGURE FROM A WORLD GONE BY"

The Count was left to himself in the bare, untidy-looking parlor, and
for a minute or two he was content to sit quite still and recover
himself after the unaccustomed exertion of speech. He needed all his
strength for what lay before him, but, by degrees, his restlessness
grew. He rose from his chair and paced up and down in increasing
excitement--his misgivings were growing fainter--he worked himself up
into the firm belief that the day for which he had waited so long was at
hand.

"They dare not deny me!" he cried, lifting his hands high above his head
until they almost touched the smoke-begrimed ceiling; "it is my due, my
just reward!"

He was so absorbed that he did not hear the noises outside--the
shuffling of feet, and, after a