<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></SPAN>CHAPTER III</h2>
<p>In the previous chapter I recorded the surprise
I felt at Miss Trevor's acceptance of Doctor
Nikola's invitation to a gondola excursion.
Almost as suddenly as she had shown her fear of
him, she had recovered her tranquillity, and the
result, as I have stated, was complete perplexity
on my part. With a united desire to reserve
our energies for the evening, we did not arrange
a long excursion for that afternoon, but contented
ourselves with a visit to the church of SS.
Giovanni e Paolo. Miss Trevor was quite recovered
by this time, and in very good spirits.
She and Glenbarth were on the most friendly
terms, consequently my wife was a most happy
woman.</p>
<p>"Isn't it nice to see them together?" she whispered,
as we crossed the hall and went down the
steps to our gondola. "They are suited to each
other almost as—well, if I really wanted to pay
you a compliment, which you don't deserve, I
should say as we are. Do you notice how prettily<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</SPAN></span>
she gives him her hand so that he may help her
into the boat?"</p>
<p>"I do," I answered grimly. "And it only shows
the wickedness of the girl. She is as capable of
getting into the boat without assistance as he is."</p>
<p>"And yet you help her yourself every time
you get the chance," my wife retorted. "I have
observed you take the greatest care that she
should not fall, even when the step has been one
of only a few inches, and I have been left to
get down by myself. Perhaps you cannot
recall that day at Capri?"</p>
<p>"I have the happiest recollections of it," I
replied. "I helped her quite half-a-dozen times."</p>
<p>"And yet you grudge that poor boy the
opportunities that you yourself were once so
eager to enjoy. You cannot deny it."</p>
<p>"I am not going to attempt to deny it," I
returned. "I <i>do</i> grudge him his chances. And
why shouldn't I? Has she not the second
prettiest hands, and the second neatest ankle,
in all Europe?"</p>
<p>My wife looked up at me with a suspicion of
a smile hovering round her mouth. When she
does that her dimples are charming.</p>
<p>"And the neatest?" she inquired, as if she
had not guessed. Women can do that sort of
thing with excellent effect.</p>
<p>"Lady Hatteras, may I help you into the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</SPAN></span>
gondola?" I said politely, and for some reason,
best known to herself, the reply appeared to
satisfy her.</p>
<p>Of one thing there could be no sort of doubt.
Miss Trevor had taken a decided liking to Glenbarth,
and the young fellow's delight in her company
was more than equal to it. By my wife's
orders I left them together as much as possible
during the afternoon, that is to say as far as
was consistent with the duties of an observant
chaperon. For instance, while we were in the
right aisle of the church, examining the mausoleum
of the Doge, Pietro Mocenningo, and the
statues of Lombardi, they were in the choir
proper, before the famous tomb of Andrea Vendramin,
considered by many to be the finest of
its kind in Venice. As we entered the choir,
they departed into the left transept. I fancy,
however, Glenbarth must have been a little
chagrined when she, playing her hand according
to the recognized rules, suggested that they
should turn back in search of us. Back they
came accordingly, to be received by my wife with
a speech that still further revealed to me the
duplicity of women.</p>
<p>"You are two naughty children," she said,
with fairly simulated wrath. "Where on earth
have you been? We have been looking for you
everywhere!"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"You are so slow," put in Miss Trevor, and
then she added, without a quaver in her voice or
blush upon her cheek, "We dawdled about in
order to let you catch us up."</p>
<p>I thought it was time for me to interfere.</p>
<p>"Perhaps I should remind you young people
that at the present moment you are in a
church," I said. "Would it not be as well, do
you think, for you to preserve those pretty little
prevarications until you are in the gondola? You
will be able to quarrel in greater comfort there.
It will also give Phyllis time to collect her
thoughts, and to prepare a new indictment."</p>
<p>My wife treated me to a look that would have
annihilated another man. After that I washed
my hands of them and turned to the copy of
Titian's <i>Martyrdom of Saint Peter</i>, which
Victor Emmanuel had presented to the church in
place of the original, which had been destroyed.
Later on we made our way, by a long series
of tortuous thoroughfares, to the piazza of Saint
Mark, where we intended to sit in front of
Florian's <i>café</i> and watch the people until it was
time for us to return and dress for dinner.</p>
<p>As I have already said, Miss Trevor had all
the afternoon been in the best of spirits.
Nothing could have been happier than her
demeanour when we left the church, yet when
we reached the piazza everything was changed.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</SPAN></span>
Apparently she was not really unhappy, nor did
she look about her in the frightened way that
had struck me so unpleasantly on the previous
evening. It was only her manner that was
strange. At first she was silent, then, as if she
were afraid we might notice it, she set herself
to talk as if she were so doing for mere talking's
sake. Then, without any apparent reason,
she became as silent as a mouse once more.
Remembering what had happened that morning
before breakfast, I did not question her, nor
did I attempt to rally her upon the subject.
To have done either would have been to have
risked a recurrence of the catastrophe we had
so narrowly escaped earlier in the day. I
accordingly left her alone, and my wife, in the
hope of distracting her attention, entered upon
an amusing argument with Glenbarth upon the
evils attendant upon excessive smoking, which
was the young man's one, and, so far as I knew,
only failing. Unable to combat her assertions
he appealed to me for protection.</p>
<p>"Take my part, there's a good fellow," he
said pathetically. "I am not strong enough to
stand against Lady Hatteras alone."</p>
<p>"No," I returned; "you must fight your
own battles. When I see a chance of having
a little peace I like to grasp it. I am going to
take Miss Trevor to Maya's shop on the other<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</SPAN></span>
side of the piazza, in search of new photographs.
We will leave you to quarrel in comfort here."</p>
<p>So saying Miss Trevor and I left them and
made our way to the famous shop, where I
purchased for her a number of photographs, of
which she had expressed her admiration a few
days before. After that we rejoined my wife
and Glenbarth and returned to our hotel for
dinner.</p>
<p>Nikola, as you may remember, had arranged
to call for us with his gondola at half-past eight,
and ten minutes before that time I suggested
that the ladies should prepare themselves for the
excursion. I bade them wrap up well, for I
knew by experience that it is seldom warm upon
the water at night. When they had left us the
Duke and I strolled into the balcony.</p>
<p>"I hope to goodness Nikola won't frighten
Miss Trevor this evening," said my companion,
after we had been there a few moments. (I
noticed that he spoke with an anxiety that was
by no means usual with him.) "She is awfully
sensitive, you know, and when he likes he can
curdle the very marrow in your bones. I shouldn't
have liked her to have heard that story he told
us this morning. I suppose there is no fear of
his repeating it to-night?"</p>
<p>"I should not think so," I returned.
"Nikola has more tact in his little finger than<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</SPAN></span>
you and I have in our whole bodies. He would
be scarcely likely to make such a mistake. No,
I rather fancy that to-night we shall see a new
side of his character. For my own part I am
prepared to confess that I am looking forward to
the excursion with a good deal of pleasure."</p>
<p>"I am glad to hear it," Glenbarth replied, as I
thought with a savour of sarcasm in his voice.
"I only hope you won't have reason to regret it."</p>
<p>This little speech set me thinking. Was it
possible that Glenbarth was jealous of Nikola?
Surely he could not be foolish enough for that.
That Miss Trevor had made an impression upon
him was apparent, but it was full early for him
to grow jealous, and particularly of such a man.</p>
<p>While I was thinking of this the ladies entered
the room, and at the same moment we heard
Nikola's gondola draw up at the steps. I thought
Miss Trevor looked a little pale, but though still
very quiet she was more cheerful than she had
been before dinner.</p>
<p>"Our guide has arrived," I remarked, as I
closed the windows behind us. "We had better
go down to the hall. Miss Trevor, if you will
accompany me, the Duke will bring Phyllis.
We must not keep Nikola waiting."</p>
<p>We accordingly left our apartments and proceeded
down-stairs.</p>
<p>"I trust you are looking forward to your<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</SPAN></span>
excursion, Miss Trevor?" I said as we descended
the stairs. "If I am not mistaken you will see
Venice to-night under circumstances such as you
could never have dreamed of before."</p>
<p>"I do not doubt it," she answered simply.
"It will be a night to remember."</p>
<p>Little did she guess how true her prophecy was
destined to be. It was indeed a night that every
member of the party would remember all his, or
her, life long. When we had reached the hall,
Nikola had just entered it, and was in the act of
sending up a servant to announce his arrival.
He shook hands with my wife, then with Miss
Trevor, afterwards with Glenbarth and myself.
His hand was, as usual, as cold as ice and
his face was deathly pale. His tall, lithe
figure was concealed by his voluminous coat, but
what was lost in one direction was compensated
for by the mystery that it imparted to his
personality. For some reason I thought of
Mephistopheles as I looked at him, and in many
ways the illustration does not seem an altogether
inapt one.</p>
<p>"Permit me to express the gratification I feel
that you have consented to allow me to be your
guide this evening, Lady Hatteras," he said as
he conducted my wife towards the boat. "While
it is an impertinence on my part to imagine that
I can add to your enjoyment of Venice, I fancy<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</SPAN></span>
it is, nevertheless, in my power to show you a
side of the city with which you are not as yet
acquainted. The night being so beautiful, and
believing that you would wish to see all you can,
I have brought a gondola without a cabin. I
trust I did not do wrong."</p>
<p>"I am sure it will be delightful," my wife
answered. "It would have been unendurable on
such a beautiful evening to be cooped up in a close
cabin. Besides, we should have seen nothing."</p>
<p>By this time we were on the steps, at the foot
of which the gondola in question, a large one of
its class, was lying. As soon as we had boarded
her the gondolier bent to his oar, the boat shot
out into the stream, and the excursion, which,
as I have said, we were each of us to remember
all our lives, had commenced. If I shut my eyes
now I can recall the whole scene: the still moonlit
waters of the canal, the houses on one side of
which were brilliantly illuminated by the moon,
the other being entirely in the shadow. When
we were in mid-stream a boat decorated with
lanterns passed us. It contained a merry party,
whose progress was enlivened by the strains of
the invariable <i>Finiculi Finicula</i>. The words
and the tune ring in my memory even now.
Years before we had grown heartily sick of the
song, now however it possessed a charm that
was quite its own.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"How pretty it is," remarked my wife and
Miss Trevor almost simultaneously. And the
former added, "I could never have believed that
it possessed such a wealth of tenderness."</p>
<p>"Might it not be the association that is
responsible?" put in Nikola gravely. "You
have probably heard that song at some time
when you have been so happy that all the world
has seemed the same. Hearing it to-night has
unconsciously recalled that association, and
<i>Finiculi Finicula</i>, once so despised, immediately
becomes a melody that touches your
heart-strings, and so wins for itself a place in
your regard that it can never altogether lose."</p>
<p>We had crossed the canal by this time; the
gondola with the singers proceeding towards the
Rialto bridge. The echo of the music still
lingered in our ears, and seemed the sweeter by
the reason of the distance that separated us from
it. Turning to the gondolier, who in the moonlight
presented a picturesque figure in the stern
of the boat, Nikola said something in Italian.
The boat's head was immediately turned in the
direction of a side-street, and a moment later we
entered it. It is not my intention, nor would it
be possible for me, to attempt to furnish you
with a definite description of the route we
followed. In the daytime I flatter myself that
I have a knowledge of the Venice of the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</SPAN></span>
tourist; if you were to give me a pencil and
paper I believe I should be able to draw a rough
outline of the city, and to place St. Mark's
Cathedral, Galaghetti's Hotel, the Rialto bridge,
the Arsenal, and certainly the railway station, in
something like their proper positions. But at
night, when I have left the Grand Canal, the
city becomes a sealed book to me. On this
particular evening every street, when once we
had left the fashionable quarter behind us,
seemed alike. There was the same darkness, the
same silence, and the same reflection of the lights
in the water. Occasionally we happened upon
places where business was still being transacted,
and where the noise of voices smote the air with
a vehemence that was like sacrilege. A few
moments would then elapse, and then we were
plunged into a silence that was almost unearthly.
All this time Nikola kept us continually interested.
Here was a house with a history as old as Venice
itself; there the home of a famous painter; yonder
the birthplace of a poet or a soldier, who
had fought his way to fame by pen or by
sword. On one side of the street was the first
dwelling of one who had been a plebeian and
had died a Doge; while on the other side was
that of a man who had given his life to save his
friend. Nor were Nikola's illustrations confined
to the past alone. Men whose names were house<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</SPAN></span>hold
words to us had preceded us, and had
seen Venice as we were seeing it now. Of each
he could tell us something we had never heard
before. It was the perfect mastery of his subject,
like that of a man who plays upon an instrument
of which he has made a lifelong study, that
astonished us. He could rouse in our hearts
such emotions as he pleased; could induce us to
pity at one moment, and to loathing at the next;
could make us see the city with his eyes, and in
a measure to love it with his own love. That
Nikola <i>did</i> entertain a deep affection for it was as
certain as his knowledge of its history.</p>
<p>"I think I may say now," he said, when we had
been absent from the hotel for upwards of an
hour, "that I have furnished you with a
superficial idea of the city. Let me attempt
after this to show you something of its inner
life. That it will repay you I think you will
admit when you have seen it."</p>
<p>Once more he gave the gondolier an order.
Without a word the man entered a narrow street
on the right, then turned to the left, after
which to the right again. What were we
going to see next? That it would be something
interesting I had not the least doubt.
Presently the gondolier made an indescribable
movement with his oar, the first signal that he
was about to stop. With two strokes he brought<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</SPAN></span>
the boat alongside the steps, and Nikola, who
was the first to spring out, assisted the ladies to
alight. We were now in a portion of Venice
with which I was entirely unacquainted. The
houses were old and lofty, though sadly fallen to
decay. Where shops existed business was still being
carried on, but the majority of the owners of
the houses in the neighbourhood appeared to be
early birds, for no lights were visible in their
dwellings. Once or twice men approached us
and stared insolently at the ladies of our party.
One of these, more impertinent than his companions,
placed his hand upon Miss Trevor's
arm. In a second, without any apparent effort,
Nikola had laid him upon his back.</p>
<p>"Do not be afraid, Miss Trevor," he said;
"the fellow has only forgotten himself for a
moment."</p>
<p>So saying he approached the man, who
scrambled to his feet, and addressed him in a
low voice.</p>
<p>"No, no, your excellency," the rascal whined;
"for the pity of the blessed saints. Had I
known it was you I would not have dared."</p>
<p>Nikola said something in a whisper to him;
what it was I have not the least idea, but its
effect was certainly excellent, for the man slunk
away without another word.</p>
<p>After this little incident we continued our<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</SPAN></span>
walk without further opposition, took several
turnings, and at last found ourselves standing
before a low doorway. That it was closely
barred on the inside was evident from the sounds
that followed when, in response to Nikola's
knocks, some one commenced to open it. Presently
an old man looked out. At first he
seemed surprised to see us, but when his eyes
fell upon Nikola all was changed. With a low
bow he invited him, in Russian, to enter.</p>
<p>Crossing the threshold we found ourselves
in a church of the smallest possible description.
By the dim light a priest could be
seen officiating at the high altar, and there
were possibly a dozen worshippers present.
There was an air of secrecy about it all, the
light, the voices, and the precautions taken to
prevent a stranger entering, that appealed to my
curiosity. As we turned to leave the building the
little man who had admitted us crept up to
Nikola's side and said something in a low voice
to him. Nikola replied, and at the same time
patted the man affectionately upon the shoulder.
Then with the same obsequious respect the
latter opened the door once more, and permitted
us to pass out, quickly barring it behind us
afterwards however.</p>
<p>"You have seen many churches during your
stay in Venice, Lady Hatteras," Nikola remarked,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</SPAN></span>
as we made our way back towards the gondola,
"I doubt very much, however, whether you
have ever entered a stranger place of worship
than that."</p>
<p>"I know that I have not," my wife replied.
"Pray who were the people we saw there? And
why was so much secrecy observed?"</p>
<p>"Because nearly all the poor souls you saw there
are either suspected or wanted by the Russian
Government. They are fugitives from injustice,
if I may so express it, and it is for that reason
that they are compelled to worship, as well as
live, in hiding."</p>
<p>"But who are they?"</p>
<p>"Nihilists," Nikola answered. "A poor, hot-headed
lot of people, who, seeing their country
drifting in a wrong direction, have taken it into
their heads to try and remedy matters by drastic
measures. Finding their efforts hopeless, their
properties confiscated, and they themselves in
danger of death, or exile, which is worse, they
have fled from Russia. Some of them, the
richest, manage to get to England, some come to
Venice, but knowing that the Italian police will
turn them out <i>sans cérémonie</i> if they discover
them, they are compelled to remain in hiding
until they are in a position to proceed elsewhere."</p>
<p>"And you help them?" asked Miss Trevor<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</SPAN></span>
in a strange voice, as if his answer were a
foregone conclusion.</p>
<p>"What makes you think that?" Nikola
inquired.</p>
<p>"Because the doorkeeper knew you, and you
spoke so kindly to him."</p>
<p>"The poor fellow has a son," Nikola replied;
"a hot-headed young rascal who has got into
trouble in Moscow. If he is caught he will
without doubt go to Siberia for the rest of his
life. But he will <i>not</i> be caught."</p>
<p>Once more Miss Trevor spoke as if with
authority, and in the same hushed voice.</p>
<p>"You have saved him?"</p>
<p>"He <i>has</i> been saved," Nikola replied. "He
left for America this morning. The old fellow
was merely expressing to me the gratification he
felt at having got him out of such a difficulty.
Now, here is our gondola. Let us get into it.
We still have much to see, and time is not
standing still with us."</p>
<p>Once more we took our places, and once more
the gondola proceeded on its way. To furnish
you with a complete <i>résumé</i> of all we saw would
take too long, and would occupy too great a
space. Let it suffice that we visited places, the
mere existence of which I had never heard of
before.</p>
<p>One thing impressed me throughout. Wher<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</SPAN></span>ever
we went Nikola was known, and not only
known, but feared and respected. His face was
a key that opened every lock, and in his company
the ladies were as safe, in the roughest parts of
Venice, as if they had been surrounded by a
troop of soldiery. When we had seen all that he
was able to show us it was nearly midnight, and
time for us to be getting back to our hotel.</p>
<p>"I trust I have not tired you?" he said, as the
ladies took their places in the gondola for the
last time.</p>
<p>"Not in the least," both answered at once, and
I fancy my wife spoke not only for herself but
also for Miss Trevor when she continued, "we
have spent a most delightful evening."</p>
<p>"You must not praise the performance until
the epilogue is spoken," Nikola answered. "I
have still one more item on my programme."</p>
<p>As he said this the gondola drew up at some
steps, where a solitary figure was standing,
apparently waiting for us. He wore a cloak
and carried a somewhat bulky object in his
hand. As soon as the boat came alongside
Nikola sprang out and approached him. To our
surprise he helped him into the gondola and
placed him in the stern.</p>
<p>"To-night, Luigi," he said, "you must sing
your best for the honour of the city."</p>
<p>The young man replied in an undertone, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</SPAN></span>
then the gondola passed down a by-street and a
moment later we were back in the Grand Canal.
There was not a breath of air, and the moon
shone full and clear upon the placid water.
Never had Venice appeared more beautiful.
Away to the right was the piazza, with the
Cathedral of Saint Mark; on our left were the
shadows of the islands. The silence of Venice,
and there is no silence in the world like it,
lay upon everything. The only sound to be
heard was the dripping of the water from the
gondolier's oar as it rose and fell in rhythmic
motion. Then the musician drew his fingers
across the strings of his guitar, and after a little
prelude commenced to sing. The song he had
chosen was the <i>Salve d'amora</i> from <i>Faust</i>,
surely one of the most delightful melodies that
has ever occurred to the brain of a musician.
Before he had sung a dozen bars we were
entranced. Though not a strong tenor his voice
was one of the most perfect I have ever heard.
It was of the purest quality, so rich and sweet
that the greatest connoisseur could not tire of it.
The beauty of the evening, the silence of the
lagoon, and the perfectness of the surroundings,
helped it to appeal to us as no music had ever
done before. It was a significant proof of the
effect produced upon us, that when he ceased
not one of us spoke for some moments. Our<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</SPAN></span>
hearts were too full for words. By the time
we had recovered ourselves the gondola had
drawn up at the steps of the hotel, and we had
disembarked. The Duke and I desired to reward
the musician; Nikola however begged us to do
nothing of the kind.</p>
<p>"He sings to-night to please me," he said.
"It would hurt him beyond words were you to
offer him any other reward."</p>
<p>After that there was nothing more to be said,
except to thank him in the best Italian we could
muster for the treat he had given us.</p>
<p>"Why on earth does he not try his fortune
upon the stage?" asked my wife, when we had
disembarked from the gondola and had assembled
on the steps. "With such a voice he might
achieve a European reputation."</p>
<p>"Alas," answered Nikola, "he will never do
that. Did you notice his infirmity?"</p>
<p>Phyllis replied that she had not observed anything
extraordinary about him.</p>
<p>"The poor fellow is blind," Nikola answered
very quietly. "He is a singing-bird shut up
always in the dark. And now, good-night.
I have trespassed too long upon your time
already."</p>
<p>He bowed low to the ladies, shook hands with
the Duke and myself, and then, before we had
time to thank him for the delightful evening he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</SPAN></span>
had given us, was in his gondola once more and
out in mid-stream. We watched him until he
had disappeared in the direction of the Rio del
Consiglio, after we entered the hotel and made
our way to our own sitting-room.</p>
<p>"I cannot say when I have enjoyed myself so
much," said my wife, as we stood talking together
before bidding each other good-night.</p>
<p>"It has been delightful," said Glenbarth,
whose little attack of jealousy seemed to have
quite left him. "Have you enjoyed it, Hatteras?"</p>
<p>I said something in reply, I cannot remember
what, but I recollect that, as I did so, I glanced
at Miss Trevor's face. It was still very pale, but
her eyes shone with extraordinary brilliance.</p>
<p>"I hope you have had a pleasant evening," I
said to her a few moments later, when we were
alone together.</p>
<p>"Yes, I think I can say that I have," she
answered, with a far-away look upon her face.
"The music was exquisite. The thought of it
haunts me still."</p>
<p>Then, having bade me good-night, she went
off with my wife, leaving me to attempt to
understand why she had replied as she had
done.</p>
<p>"And what do you think of it, my friend?"
I inquired of Glenbarth, when we had taken our
cigars out into the balcony.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I am extremely glad we went," he returned
quickly. "There can be no doubt that you were
right when you said that it would show us
Nikola's character in a new light. Did you
notice with what respect he was treated by
everybody we met, and how anxious they were
not to run the risk of offending him?"</p>
<p>"Of course I noticed it, and you may be sure
I drew my own conclusions from it," I replied.</p>
<p>"And those conclusions were?"</p>
<p>"That Nikola's character is even more inexplicable
than before."</p>
<p>After that we smoked in silence for some time.
At last I rose and tossed what remained of my
cigar over the rails into the dark waters below.</p>
<p>"It is getting late," I said. "Don't you
think we had better bid each other good-night?"</p>
<p>"Perhaps we had, and yet I don't feel a bit
tired."</p>
<p>"Are you quite sure that you have had a
pleasant day?"</p>
<p>"Quite sure," he said, with a laugh. "The
only thing I regret is having heard that wretched
story this morning. Do you recall the gusto
with which Nikola related it?"</p>
<p>I replied in the affirmative, and asked him his
reason for referring to it now.</p>
<p>"Because I could not help thinking of it
this evening, when his voice was so pleasant and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</SPAN></span>
his manner so kind. When I picture him going
back to that house to-night, to that dreadful
room, to sleep alone in that great building, it
fairly makes me shudder. Good-night, old
fellow. You have treated me royally to-day;
I could scarcely have had more sensations compressed
into my waking hours if I'd been a
king."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</SPAN></span></p>
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