ound in
any great library. Suffice it to say that murder of a layman was much
cheaper than many crimes my lay readers would deem light by comparison.

This told; and by a little trifling concession on each side, the bargain
was closed, the money handed over, and the aspirant to heaven's favour
forgiven beforehand for removing one layman. The price for disposing of
a clerk bore no proportion.

The word assassination was never once uttered by either merchant.

All this buzzed in Gerard's ear. But he never lifted his head from the
table; only listened stupidly.

However, when the parties rose and separated, he half raised his head,
and eyed with a scowl the retiring figure of the purchaser.

"If Margaret was alive," muttered he, "I'd take thee by the throat and
throttle thee, thou cowardly stabber. But she is dead; dead; dead. Die
all the world; 'tis nought to me: so that I die among the first."

When he got home there was a man in a slouched hat walking briskly to
and fro on the opposite side of the way.

"Why, there is that cur again," thought Gerard.

But in this state of mind, the circumstance made no impression whatever
on him.

CHAPTER LXVI

Two nights after this Pietro Vanucci and Andrea sat waiting supper for
Gerard.

The former grew peevish. It was past nine o'clock. At last he sent
Andrea to Gerard's room on the desperate chance of his having come in
unobserved. Andrea shrugged his shoulders and went.

He returned without Gerard, but with a slip of paper. Andrea could not
read, as scholars in his day and charity boys in ours understand the
art; but he had a quick eye, and had learned how the words Pietro
Vanucci looked on paper.

"That is for you, I trow," said he, proud of his intelligence.

Pietro snatched it, and read it to Andrea, with his satirical comments.

"'Dear Pietro, dear Andrea, life is too great a burden.'

"So 'tis, my lad,' but that is no reason for being abroad at
supper-time. Supper is not a burden."

"'Wear my habits!'

"Said the poplar to the juniper bush."

"'And thou, Andrea, mine amethyst ring; and me in both your hearts a
month or two.'

"Why, Andrea?"

"'For my body, ere this ye read, it will lie in Tiber. Trouble not to
look for it. 'Tis not worth the pains. Oh unhappy day that it was born
oh happy night that rids me of it.

"'Adieu! adieu!

"'The broken-hearted Gerard.'

"Here is a sorry jest of the peevish rogue," said Pietro. But his pale
cheek and