st-office at the corner. She went in and explained that she wanted
to send a telegram. The young woman behind the counter glanced at the
clock.

"Where to? You have half an hour."

"To Florence." She wrote it and gave it in.

"To JEAN AVENEL, Villa Fiorelli, Settignano, Florence.

"If you would help me come if you can to the Villino
Bella Vista at Albano to-morrow soon after noon; watch
for me and follow me in. I know it may not be possible,
but the danger is real to me and I want you so much. In
any case remember that my heart was yours only.--OLIVE."

CHAPTER VIII

Jean sat leaning forward that he might see the road. The night was
dark, starless, and very wet, and he and the chauffeur were all
streaming with rain and splashed with liquid mud that spattered up
from the car wheels. Now and again they rattled over the rough cobble
stones of a village street, but the way for the most part lay through
deep woods and by mountain gorges. The roar of Arno in flood, swollen
with melted snows, and hurrying on its way to the sea, was with them
for a while, but other sounds there were none save the rustling of
leaves in the coverts, the moaning of wind in the tree-tops, the
drip-drip of the rain, and the steady throbbing of the car.

When the darkness lightened to the grey glimmer of a cheerless dawn
Jean changed places with the chauffeur; Vincenzo was a careful driver,
and he dared not trust his own impatience any longer. His hands were
numbed with cold, and now he took off his gloves to chafe them, but
first he felt in his inner pocket for the flimsy sheets of paper that
lay there safe against his heart.

He had been sitting alone at the piano in the music-room, not playing,
but softly touching the keys and dreaming in the dark, when Hilaire
came in to him.

"You need not write to her after all. She has sent for you. Hear what
she says." He stood in the doorway to read the message by the light
that filtered in from the hall. Jean listened carefully.

"The car--I must tell Vincenzo." The lines of the strong, lean face
seemed to have softened, and the brown eyes were very bright. His
brother smiled as he laid a kindly hand upon his arm. "The car will be
round soon. I have sent word, and you have plenty of time. Assure
Olive of my brotherly regard, and tell her that my books are still
waiting to be catalogued. If she will come here for a while she will
be doing a kindness to a lonely ma