<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XI</h2>
<p>When I had picked up Nikola we continued
our voyage. Dawn was just breaking, and
Venice appeared very strange and uncanny in
the weird morning light. A cold wind was
blowing in from the sea, and when I experienced
its sharpness, I could not help feeling thankful
that I had the foresight to bring my cloak.</p>
<p>"How do you know where the meeting is to
take place?" I asked, after we had been travelling
a few minutes.</p>
<p>"Because, when I am unable to find things
out for myself, I have agents who can do it for
me," he replied. "What would appear difficult,
in reality is very simple. To reach the place in
question it would be necessary for them to employ
gondolas, and for the reason that, as you
are aware, there are not many plying in the
streets of Venice at such an early hour, it would
be incumbent upon them to bespeak them beforehand.
A few inquiries among the gondoliers<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</SPAN></span>
elicited the information I wanted. That point
satisfactorily settled, the rest was easy."</p>
<p>"And you think we shall be there in time to
prevent the meeting?" I asked.</p>
<p>"We shall be at the rendezvous before they
are," he answered. "And I have promised you
they shall not fight."</p>
<p>Comforted by this reassuring news, I settled
myself down to watch the tortuous thoroughfares
through which we were passing. Presently we
passed the church of St. Maria del Formosa, and
later the Ducal Palace, thence out into the commencement
of the Grand Canal itself. It was
then that Nikola urged the gondoliers, for we
had two, to greater speed. Under their powerful
strokes the light little craft sped over the smooth
bay, passed the island of St. Georgio Maggiore,
and then turned almost due south. Then
I thought of Glenbarth, and wondered what
his feelings were at that moment. At last I
began to have an inkling of our destination.
We were proceeding in the direction of the
Lido, and it was upon the sandy beach that
separates the lagoons and Venice from the
open sea that the duel was to be fought.
Presently we landed, and Nikola said something
to the gondoliers, who turned their craft and
moved slowly away. After walking along the
sands for some distance, we hid ourselves at a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</SPAN></span>
place where it was possible to see the strip of
beach, while we ourselves remained hidden.</p>
<p>"They will not be here before another ten
minutes," said Nikola, consulting his watch;
"we had a good start of them."</p>
<p>Seating ourselves we awaited their arrival,
and while we did so, Nikola talked of the value
set upon human life by the inhabitants of
different countries. No one was more competent
to speak on such a subject than he, for he had
seen it in every clime and in every phase. He
spoke with a bitterness and a greater scorn for
the petty vanities and aims of men than I had
ever noticed in him before. Suddenly he
stopped, and looking towards the left said—</p>
<p>"If I am not mistaken, the Duke of Glenbarth
has arrived."</p>
<p>I looked in the direction indicated, and was
able to descry the tall figure of the Duke coming
along the sands. A little later two other persons
made their appearance and followed him. One
was undoubtedly the Don, but who was the
third? As they drew closer, I discovered that
he was unknown to me; not so to Nikola,
however.</p>
<p>"Burmaceda," he said to himself, and there
was an ugly sneer upon his face.</p>
<p>The Duke bowed ceremoniously to the two
men, and the stranger, having returned his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</SPAN></span>
salute, knelt upon the sand, and proceeded to
open a box he had brought with him. From it
he produced a pair of pistols which he loaded
with ostentatious care. This work finished, he
took them by their barrels and gave Glenbarth
his choice. The Spaniard, I noticed, was dressed
entirely in black, not showing a particle of
white; the Duke was attired very much as usual.
When each had taken a pistol, the stranger
measured the distance upon the sands and
allotted them their respective positions. By this
time I was in such a fever of excitement that
Nikola laid his hand upon my arm to restrain
me.</p>
<p>"Wait," he whispered. "Have I not pledged
you my word that your friend shall not be hurt?
Do not interrupt them yet. I have my suspicions,
and am anxious to confirm them."</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i006" name="i006"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i006.jpg" alt="i006" /> <p class="caption">"'Put down your pistols,' said Nikola."</p> </div>
<p>I accordingly waited, but though it was only
for a few seconds it seemed to me an eternity.
The two men were in position, and the stranger,
I gathered, was giving them their final instructions.
They were to stand with their faces
turned from each other, and at the word of
command were to wheel round and fire. In a
flash I saw what Nikola had in his mind. The
stranger was favouring the Don, for while Glenbarth
would have faithfully carried out his portion
of the contract, the Spaniard did not turn<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</SPAN></span>
at all, a fact which his opponent was scarcely
likely to become aware of, seeing that he would
in all probability have a bullet in his heart before
he would have had time to realize the trick that
had been played upon him. The stranger had
raised his hand above his head, and was about to
give the signal, when Nikola sprang from beside
me, and in a loud voice called to them to "stop."
I rose to my feet at the same instant, and
followed him across the sands to where the men
stood.</p>
<p>"Put down your pistols, gentlemen," said
Nikola in a voice that rang like a trumpet-call.
"I forbid the duel. Your Grace, the challenge
comes from you, I beg that you will apologize to
Don Martinos for having sent it."</p>
<p>"I shall do nothing of the kind," the Duke
returned.</p>
<p>On learning this Nikola took him on one side
and talked earnestly with him for a few minutes.
Then, still with his hand upon the other's arm,
he led him back to where we were standing.</p>
<p>"I express my regret for having challenged
you," said Glenbarth, but with no good grace.</p>
<p>"I thank you, your Grace," said Nikola.
Then turning to the Don, he went on—"And
now, Don Martinos, I hope you will apologize
to the Duke for the insults that occasioned the
challenge."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>With an oath the Spaniard vowed that he was
the last man to do anything of the kind. He
had never apologized to any man in his life, and
he was not going to do so now, with more to the
same effect. Then Nikola fixed his glittering eyes
upon him. His voice, however, when he spoke
was as conciliatory as ever.</p>
<p>"To oblige <i>me</i> you will do it," he said, and
then drawing a little closer to him he murmured
something that we could not hear. The effect
upon the Don was magical. His face turned a
leaden hue, and for a moment I thought he
would have fallen, but he recovered his self-possession
with an effort, and muttered the
apology Nikola had demanded of him.</p>
<p>"I thank you, gentlemen," said Nikola. "Now,
with your permission, we will return to the city."
Here he wheeled round upon the stranger, and
continued:—"This is not the first of these little
affairs in which you have played a part. You
have been warned before, profit by it, for the
time may come when it will be too late.
Remember Pietro Sallomi."</p>
<p>I do not know who Pietro Sallomi may have
been, but I know that the mere mention of his
name was sufficient to take all the swagger out
of the stranger. He fell to pieces like a house
of cards.</p>
<p>"Now, gentlemen, let us be moving," said<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</SPAN></span>
Nikola, and taking the Don with him he set off
quickly in the direction of the spot where we
had disembarked from the gondola. I followed
with the Duke.</p>
<p>"My dear boy," I said, as we walked along,
"why on earth did you do it? Is your life of
so little value to yourself or to your friends, that
you try to throw it away in this reckless
fashion?"</p>
<p>"I am the most miserable brute on the face
of the earth," he replied. "I think it would
have been far better for me had I been shot
back there."</p>
<p>"Look here, Glenbarth," I said with some
anger, "if you talk nonsense in this manner, I
shall begin to think that you are not accountable
for your actions. What on earth have you to
be so unhappy about?"</p>
<p>"You know very well," he answered gloomily.</p>
<p>"You are making yourself miserable because
Miss Trevor will not marry you," I said. "You
have not asked her, how therefore can you
tell?"</p>
<p>"But she seems to prefer Don Martinos," he
went on.</p>
<p>"Fiddlesticks!" I answered. "I'm quite
certain she hasn't thought of him in that way.
Now, I am going to talk plainly to you. I have
made up my mind that we leave to-day for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</SPAN></span>
Rome. We shall spend a fortnight there, and
you should have a fair opportunity of putting the
question to Miss Trevor. If you can't do it in
that time, well, all I can say is, that you are
not the man I took you for. You must remember
one thing, however: I'll have no more of this
nonsense. It's all very well for a Spanish braggart
to go swaggering about the world, endeavouring
to put bullets into inoffensive people, but
it's not the thing for an English gentleman."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Dick. Try to forgive me. You
won't tell Lady Hatteras, will you?"</p>
<p>"She knows it already," I answered. "I don't
fancy you would get much sympathy from her.
Try for a moment to picture what their feelings
would have been—mine may be left out of the
question—if you had been lying dead on the
beach yonder. Think of your relations at home.
What would they have said and thought? And
for what?"</p>
<p>"Because he insulted me," Glenbarth replied.
"Was I to put up with that?"</p>
<p>"You should have treated him with the contempt
he merited. But there, do not let us
discuss the matter any further. All's well that
ends well; and I don't think we shall see much
more of the Don."</p>
<p>When we reached the gondolas Nikola took
me aside.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"You had better return to the city with the
Duke in one," he said; "I will take the Don
back in another."</p>
<p>"And what about the other fellow?" I
inquired.</p>
<p>"Let him swim if he likes," said Nikola, with
a shrug of his shoulders. "By the way, I suppose
you saw what took place back yonder?"</p>
<p>I nodded.</p>
<p>"Then say nothing about it," he replied.
"Such matters are best kept to one's self."</p>
<p>It was a very sober-minded and reflective
young man that sat down to breakfast with us
that morning. My wife, seeing how matters
stood, laid herself out to be especially kind to
him. So affable indeed was she, that Miss
Trevor regarded her with considerable surprise.
During the meal the journey to Rome was
discussed, and it was decided that I should telegraph
for our old rooms, and that we should leave
Venice at half-past two. This arrangement was
duly carried out, and nightfall saw us well advanced
on our journey to the capital. The journey is so
well known that I need not attempt to describe it
here. Only one incident struck me as remarkable
about it. No sooner had we crossed the
railway-bridge that unites Venice with the mainland,
than Miss Trevor's lethargy, if I may so
describe it, suddenly left her. She seemed to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</SPAN></span>
be her old self instantly. It was as though she
had at last thrown off the load under which
she had so long been staggering. She laughed
and joked with my wife, teased her father, and
was even inclined to be flippant with the head
of the family. After the events of the morning
the effect upon the Duke was just what was
wanted.</p>
<p>In due course we reached Rome, and installed
ourselves at our old quarters in the Piazza Barberini.
From that moment the time we had
allowed ourselves sped by on lightning wings.
We seemed scarcely to have got there before it
was time to go back to Venice. It was unfortunately
necessary for the Dean to return to
England, at the end of our stay in Rome, and
though it was considerably out of his way, he
proposed journeying thither by way of Venice.
The change had certainly done his daughter
good. She was quite her old self once more,
and the listless, preoccupied air that had taken
such a hold upon her in Venice had entirely
disappeared.</p>
<p>"Make the most of the Eternal City," my
wife announced at dinner on the eve of our
departure, "for to-morrow morning you will
look your last upon it. The dragon who has us
in his power has issued his decree, and, like the
laws of the Medes and Persians, it changeth not."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"A dragon?" I answered. "You should say
the family scapegoat! I protest to you, my
dear Dean, that it is most unfair. If it is some
disagreeable duty to be performed, then it is by
my order; if it is something that will bestow
happiness upon another, then it is my lady that
gets the credit."</p>
<p>"A very proper arrangement," said my wife,
"as I am sure the Dean will agree with me."</p>
<p>"I agree with you in everything," replied the
polite old gentleman. "Could I do otherwise?"</p>
<p>"I appeal to the Duke, then. Is it your
Grace's opinion that a husband should of necessity
take upon himself the properties of a
dragon?"</p>
<p>Even that wretched young man would not
stand by an old friend.</p>
<p>"I am not going to be drawn into an argument
with you," he said. "If Lady Hatteras
calls you a dragon, then a dragon you must
remain until the end of the chapter, so far as
I am concerned."</p>
<p>"Phyllis is always right," answered Miss
Trevor unblushingly.</p>
<p>"I give in," I said in mock despair. "If you
are all against me, I am undone."</p>
<p>It was a beautiful moonlight night when we
rose from dinner, and it was arranged that our
last evening in Rome should be spent in a visit<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</SPAN></span>
to the Colosseum. A carriage was immediately
ordered, and when the ladies had wrapped themselves
up warmly we set off. To those unfortunate
individuals who have not had an opportunity
of visiting that ancient structure, I can only
justify my incompetency by saying that it would
be well-nigh impossible to furnish a description
that would give them an adequate idea of the
feeling of awe it inspires in one. By moonlight
it presents a picture that for solemn grandeur
is, to my thinking, without its equal in the
world. Pompeii by moonlight suggests reflections.
The great square of St. Mark's in Venice
seen by the same mellow light is a sight never to
be forgotten; but in my humble opinion the
Colosseum eclipses them all. We entered it and
stood in the great ring looking up at the tiers
of seats, and recalling its Past. The Dean was
profoundly impressed, and spoke of the men
who had given up their lives in martyrdom
within those great walls.</p>
<p>"How many of the crowd gathered here to
witness the agony of the tortured Christians,"
he said, "believed that the very religion which
they so heartily despised was destined to sway
the world, and to see the mighty Colosseum and
the mightier Power that built it, a ruin? It is
a wonderful thought."</p>
<p>After the Dean's speech we crossed to a spot<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</SPAN></span>
where a better view was obtainable. It was
only then that we discovered that the Duke and
Miss Trevor were not of our party. When, however,
it was time to return they emerged from
the shadow and followed us out. Both were
unusually silent, and my wife, putting two and
two together in her own fashion, came to the
conclusion that they had quarrelled. When,
later on, the Duke and I were alone together,
and the ladies and the Dean had retired to their
respective rooms, I was about to take him to
task when he stopped me.</p>
<p>"Dick, old man," he said with a solemnity
that could not have been greater had he been
telling me of some great tragedy, "I want you
to give me your congratulations. Miss Trevor
has consented to become my wife."</p>
<p>I was so surprised that I scarcely knew what
to do or say.</p>
<p>"Good gracious, man!—then why are you so
downcast?" I replied. "I had made up my mind
that she had refused you!"</p>
<p>"I am far from being downcast," he said as
solemnly as before. "I am the happiest man
in the world. Can't you understand how I feel?
Somehow—now that it is over, and I have won
her—it seems so great a thing that it almost
overwhelms me. You don't know, Dick, how
proud I am that she should have taken me!"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"And so you ought to be," I said enthusiastically.
"You'll have a splendid wife, and I know
you'll make a good husband."</p>
<p>"I don't deserve it, Dick," he continued in
humiliating self-abasement. "She is too good
for me, much too good."</p>
<p>"I remember that I said the same thing myself,"
I replied. "Come to me in five years'
time and let me hear what you have to say
then."</p>
<p>"Confound you," he answered; "why do you
talk like that?"</p>
<p>"Because it's the way of the world, my lad," I
answered. "But there, you'll learn all for yourself
soon enough. Now let me order a whisky-and-potash
for you, and then off you go to bed."</p>
<p>"A whisky-and-potash?" he cried, with
horror depicted on his face. "Do you think I'm
going to drink whisky on the night that she has
accepted me? You must be mad."</p>
<p>"Well, have your own way," I answered.
"For my own part, I have no such scruples. I
have been married too long."</p>
<p>I rang the bell, and, when my refreshment was
brought to me, drank it slowly, as became a
philosopher.</p>
<p>It would appear that Miss Trevor had already
told my wife, for I was destined to listen to a
considerable amount of information concerning<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</SPAN></span>
it before I was allowed to close my eyes that
night.</p>
<p>"I always said that they were suited to each
other," she observed. "She will make an ideal
Duchess, and I think he may consider himself a
very lucky fellow. What did he say about it?"</p>
<p>"He admitted that he was not nearly good
enough for her."</p>
<p>"That was nice of him. And what did you
say?"</p>
<p>"I told him to come to me in five years' time
and let me hear what he had to say then,"
I answered with a yawn.</p>
<p>I had an idea that I should get into trouble
over that remark, and I was not mistaken. I
was told that it was an unfeeling thing to have
said, that it was not the sort of idea to put into
a young man's head at such a time, and that if
every one had such a good wife as some other
people she could name, they would have reason
to thank their good fortune.</p>
<p>"If I am not mistaken, you told me you were
not good enough for me when I accepted you,"
she retorted. "What do you say now?"</p>
<p>"Exactly what I said then," I answered
diplomatically. "I am not good enough for you.
You should have married the Dean."</p>
<p>"Don't be absurd. The Dean is a dear old
thing, but is old enough to be my father."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"He will be Glenbarth's father-in-law directly,"
I said with a chuckle, "and then that young
man will have to drink his claret and listen to
his sermons. In consideration of that I will
forgive him all his sins against me."</p>
<p>Then I fell asleep, to dream that I was a rival
of St. George chasing a dragon over the seats of
the Colosseum; to find, when I had run him to
earth, that he had assumed human shape, and
was no other than my old friend the Dean of
Bedminster.</p>
<p>Next morning the young couple's behaviour at
breakfast was circumspection itself. The worthy
old Dean ate his breakfast unconscious of the
shell that was to be dropped into his camp an
hour later, while my wife purred approval over
the teapot. Meanwhile I wondered what Nikola
would have to say when he heard of the engagement.
After the meal was over we left the
Duke and Dean together. Somehow, I don't
think Glenbarth was exactly at his ease, but
when he reappeared half-an-hour later and shook
me by the hand, he vowed that the old gentleman
was the biggest trump in the world, and
that I was the next. From this I gathered
that the matter had been satisfactorily settled,
and that, so far as parental consent was
concerned, Miss Gertrude Trevor was likely to
become the Duchess of Glenbarth without any<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</SPAN></span>
unnecessary delay. Though there was not much
time to spare before our train started, there was
still sufficient for the lovers to make a journey to
the Piazza di Trevi, where a magnificent diamond
ring was purchased to celebrate the engagement.
A bracelet that would have made any woman's
mouth water was also dedicated to the same
purpose. A memorial bracelet on the Etruscan
model was next purchased for my wife, and was
handed to her later on by her grateful friends.</p>
<p>"You did so much for us," said the Duke
simply, when Miss Trevor made the presentation.</p>
<p>My lady thereupon kissed Miss Trevor and
thanked the Duke, while I looked on in
amazement.</p>
<p>"Come, now," I said, "I call that scarcely fair.
Is the poor dragon to receive nothing? I was
under the impression that I had done more than
any one to bring about this happy result."</p>
<p>"You shall have our gratitude," Miss Trevor
replied. "That would be so nice, wouldn't it?"</p>
<p>"We'll see what the Duke says in five years,"
I answered, and with this Parthian shot I left
them.</p>
<p>Next morning we reached Venice. The
journey had been a very pleasant one, but I must
say that I was not sorry when it was over.
The picture of two young lovers, gazing with
devotion into each other's eyes hour after hour,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</SPAN></span>
is apt to pall upon one. We had left Mestre
behind us, and were approaching the bridge I
have described before as connecting Venice with
the mainland, when I noticed that Gertrude
Trevor had suddenly become silent and preoccupied.
She had a headache, she declared to
my wife, but thought it would soon pass off. On
reaching the railway-station we chartered a barca
to take us to our hotel. When we reached it,
Galaghetti was on the steps to receive us. His
honest face beamed with satisfaction, and the
compliments he paid my wife when she set foot
upon the steps, were such as to cover her with
confusion. I directed my party to go up-stairs,
and then drew the old man on one side.</p>
<p>"Don Josè de Martinos?" I asked, knowing
that it was sufficient merely to mention his
name.</p>
<p>"He is gone, my lord," Galaghetti replied.
"Since he was a friend of yours, I am sorry I
could keep him no longer. Perhaps your lordship
does not know that he has gambled all his
money away, and that he has not even enough
left to discharge his indebtedness to me."</p>
<p>"I certainly did not know it," I replied. "And
I am sorry to hear it. Where is he now?"</p>
<p>"I could not say," Galaghetti replied. "But
doubtless I could find out if your lordship desires
to know."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"You need not do that," I answered. "I
merely asked out of curiosity. Don Martinos
was no friend of mine."</p>
<p>Then, bidding him good-day, I made my way
up-stairs, turning over in my mind what I had
heard. I was not at all surprised to hear that
the Don had come to grief, though I had not
expected that the catastrophe would happen
in so short a time. It was satisfactory to know,
however, that in all probability he would never
trouble us again.</p>
<p>That afternoon, according to custom, we spent
an hour at Florian's <i>café</i>. The Duke and
Gertrude strolled up and down, while my wife
drew my attention to their happiness. I had
on several occasions sang Glenbarth's praises to
the Dean, and as a result the old gentleman was
charmed with his future son-in-law, and seemed
to think that the summit of his ambition had
been achieved. During our sojourn on the
piazza I kept my eyes open, for I was in hopes of
seeing Nikola, but I saw nothing of him. If I
was not successful in that way, however, I was
more so in another. I had found a budget of
letters awaiting me on my return from Rome, and
as two of them necessitated my sending telegrams
to England, I allowed the rest of the party to
return to hotel by boat, while I made my way to
the telegraph-office. Having sent them off, I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</SPAN></span>
walked on to the Rio del Barcaroli, engaged a
gondola there, and was about to step into it,
when I became aware of a man watching me.
He proved to be none other than the Spaniard,
Don Martinos, but so great was the change
in him that for a moment I scarcely recognized
him. Though only a fortnight had elapsed
since I had last seen him, he had shrunk to
what was only a shadow of his former self.
His face was of a pasty, fishy whiteness, and his
eyes had a light in them that I had not seen
there before. For the moment I thought he had
been drinking, and that his unnatural appearance
was the result. Remembering his murderous
intention on the morning of the frustrated duel,
I felt inclined not to speak to him. My pity,
however, got the better of me, and I bade him
good-day. He did not return my salutation,
however, but looked at me as if I were some
one he had seen before, but could not remember
where. I then addressed him by name.</p>
<p>In reply he beckoned to me to follow him out
of earshot of the gondolier.</p>
<p>"I cannot remember your name," he said,
gripping me by the arm, "but I know that I
have met you before. I cannot remember anything
now because—because——" Here he
paused and put his hand to his forehead as if
he were in pain. I endeavoured to make him<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</SPAN></span>
understand who I was, but without success. He
shook his head and looked at me, talking for a
moment in Italian, then in Spanish, with interludes
of English. A more pitiable condition for
a man to get into could scarcely be imagined.
At last I tried him with a question I thought
might have some effect upon him.</p>
<p>"Have you met Doctor Nikola lately?" I
inquired.</p>
<p>The effect it produced upon him was instantaneous.
He shrunk from me as if he had been
struck, and, leaning against the wall of the house
behind him, trembled like an aspen leaf. For a
man usually so self-assertive—one might almost
say so aggressive—here was a terrible change. I
was more than ever at a loss to account for it.
He was the last man I should have thought would
have been taken in such a way.</p>
<p>"Don't tell him; you must not tell him,
promise me that you will not do so," he whispered
in English. "He would punish me if he knew,
and—and——" Here he fell to whimpering like
a child who feared chastisement. It was not a
pretty exhibition, and I was more shocked by it
than I can say. At this juncture I remembered
the fact that he was without means, and as my
heart had been touched by his pathetic condition,
I was anxious to render him such assistance as
was in my power. For this reason I endeavoured<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</SPAN></span>
to press a loan upon him, telling him that he
could repay me when things brightened.</p>
<p>"No, no," he answered, with a flash of his old
spirit; then he added in a whisper, "He would
know of it!"</p>
<p>"Who would know of it?" I asked.</p>
<p>"Doctor Nikola," he answered. Then laying
his hand upon my arm again, and placing his
mouth close to my ear as if he were anxious to
make sure that no one else should hear, he went
on, "I would rather die of starvation in the streets
than fall into his hands. Look at me," he
continued, after a moment's pause. "Look
what I am! I tell you he has got me body and
soul. I cannot escape from him. I have no
will but his, and he is killing me inch by inch.
I have tried to escape, but it is impossible. If
I were on the other side of the world and he
wanted me I should be obliged to come." Then
with another change as swift as thought he began
to defy Nikola, vowing that he <i>would</i> go away,
and that nothing should ever induce him to see
him again. But a moment later he was back in
his old condition once more.</p>
<p>"Farewell, Senor," he whispered. "I must be
going. There is no time to lose. He is awaiting
me."</p>
<p>"But you have not told me where you are
living now?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Cannot you guess?" he answered, still in the
same curious voice. "My home is the Palace
Revecce in the Rio del Consiglio."</p>
<p>Here was surprise indeed! The Don had gone
to live with Nikola. Was it kindness that had
induced the latter to take him in? If not, what
were his reasons for so doing?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</SPAN></span></p>
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