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Updated: June 2, 2025
He found the house, paused, looked up at the windows, and looked twice at the number. "Do you seek some one?" inquired the one-eyed cobbler, resting his black hands on his knees. "Did Mr. Paul Griggs ever live here?" asked Lord Redin. "Many years," answered the cobbler, laconically. "Where does he live now?" "Always here, except when he is not here. Third floor, on the left. You can ring the bell.
But Lord Redin appeared at last, dressed as though he were going to make a visit. He looked about the square, standing still on the threshold for a moment, and a couple of small open cabs drove up. But he shook his head, consulted his watch, and strode away in the direction of the Propaganda.
The peasant had probably seen him, but chose to take no notice of him. Griggs allowed him to get a fair start and then quickened his own pace, so as to keep him in view. Lord Redin swung along steadily and turned up the Via Condotti. Stefanone almost ran, till he, too, had turned the corner of the street. Griggs, without running, nearly overtook him as he took the same turn a moment later.
"They went out to spend the summer at Subiaco " "At Subiaco?" Dalrymple's steely blue eyes fixed themselves in a look of extreme attention. "Yes, during the heat. They lodged in the house of a man called Stefanone a wine-seller a very respectable place." Lord Redin had started nervously at the name, but he recovered himself. "Very respectable," he said, in an odd tone.
But Gloria reminded people too often that she had a right to be where she was, as the daughter of Angus Dalrymple, who might some day be Lord Redin. Fortunately for her, no one knew that Dalrymple had begun life as a doctor, and very far from such prospects as now seemed quite within the bounds of realization.
In ten seconds the cobbler looked up with a surly frown. "If you wish to go up, go up," he growled. "If not, favour me by getting out of my light." The Scotchman looked at him. "You do not remember me," he observed. "I used to come here with the Signore." "Well? I have told you. If you want him, there is the staircase." "No. I do not want him," said Lord Redin, and he turned away abruptly.
"Yes yes Stefanone," she said in a low voice, as though to herself, and she stood still, comprehending the whole situation in a flash, and imagining that Griggs knew the whole truth and had been telling it to her as though she had not known it. "But how did you know that Lord Redin took the girl's body and burnt it?" she asked, quite certain that he had mentioned the fact.
"Of course I have always known Subiaco, and every one there knows Stefanone, and the story of his daughter who ran away with an Englishman many years ago, and never was heard of again." Lord Redin grew a trifle paler. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Does every one know that story?" There was something so constrained in his tone that Francesca looked at him curiously. "Yes in Subiaco," she answered.
Sometimes an old man says a wise word." He went away very much discontented with the result of the conversation. His mind was a medley of cunning and simplicity backed by an absolutely unforgiving temper and great caution. His plan had seemed exceedingly good. Lord Redin and Griggs would have supped together, and the former would very naturally have gone home alone.
"You know the house?" asked Francesca, in surprise. "Very well indeed. I was there nearly five and twenty years ago. I supposed that Stefanone was dead by this time." "No. He and his wife are alive, and take lodgers." "Excuse me, but how do you know all this?" asked Lord Redin, with sudden curiosity. "I have been there," answered Francesca. "I have often been to the convent.
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