t I have no intention of sprinkling you with holy water-so
don't be frightened. Besides, if you should do anything outrageous--if
you should turn into a black cat, and fly away on a broomstick, for
example--I could never forgive myself. But I'll thank you to employ
a little of your witchcraft on my behalf, all the same. I have lost
something--something very precious--more precious than rubies--more
precious than fine gold."

Marietta's brown old wrinkles fell into an expression of alarm.

"In the villa? In the garden?" she exclaimed, anxiously.

"No, you conscientious old thing you," Peter hastened to relieve her.
"Nowhere in your jurisdiction--so don't distress yourself: Laggiu,
laggiu."

And he waved a vague hand, to indicate outer space.

"The Signorino should put up a candle to St. Anthony of Padua,"
counselled this Catholic witch.

"St. Anthony of Padua? Why of Padua?" asked Peter.

"St. Anthony of Padua," said Marietta.

"You mean of Lisbon," corrected Peter.

"No," insisted the old woman, with energy. "St. Anthony of Padua."

"But he was born in Lisbon;" insisted Peter.

"No," said Marietta.

"Yes," said he, "parola d' onore. And, what's more to the purpose, he
died in Lisbon. You clearly mean St. Anthony of Lisbon."

"No!" Marietta raised her voice, for his speedier conviction. "There is
no St. Anthony of Lisbon. St. Anthony of Padua."

"What's the use of sticking to your guns in that obstinate fashion?"
Peter complained. "It's mere pride of opinion. Don't you know that the
ready concession of minor points is a part of the grace of life?"

"When you lose an object, you put up a candle to St. Anthony of Padua,"
said Marietta, weary but resolved.

"Not unless you wish to recover the object," contended Peter.

Marietta stared at him, blinking.

"I have no wish to recover the object I have lost," he continued
blandly. "The loss of it is a new, thrilling, humanising experience.
It will make a man of me--and, let us hope, a better man. Besides, in
a sense, I lost it long ago--'when first my smitten eyes beat full
on her,' one evening at the Francais, three, four years ago. But it's
essential to my happiness that I should see the person into whose
possession it has fallen. That is why I am not angry with you for being
a witch. It suits my convenience. Please arrange with the powers of
darkness to the end that I may meet the person in question tomorrow
at the latest. No!" He raised a forbidding han