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Because the honour of some one else was concerned, of course. But was he, Giovanni Saracinesca, not to be trusted with the keeping of that other person's honour as well as Corona herself? Had they ever had secrets from each other? Would it not have been simpler for her to trust him with the story, if she was innocent, than to be silent and ask him to trust her motives? Far simpler, of course.
"It could have nothing to do with the murder, you think?" inquired the statesman with an air of interest. "No. How could it?" Gouache laughed at the idea. "The Saracinesca could not murder their enemies as they used to do five hundred years ago. Besides, your Eminence has got the murderer and must be able to guess better than I what were the incentives to the crime."
He would not have taken the trouble to kill her a peasant girl in the Abruzzi! He would have had no difficulty in leaving her, and she is probably alive and well at the present moment, perhaps the mother of the future Prince Saracinesca who can tell?" "But do you not see," said Donna Tullia, "that unless you have proof that she is alive, we have no hold upon him?
"As these things must be done, once and for always, I have brought my papers to Rome," answered the Marchese. "They are at your disposal, for you certainly have a right to see them, if you like. I will recall to your memory the facts of our history, in case you have forgotten them." "I know the story well enough," said Saracinesca. "Our great- grandfathers were brothers.
"Don Giovanni can be one," he added, giving the latter the only name that was now his, with a lawyer's scrupulous exactness. "One of your clerks can be the other," suggested Saracinesca, who was anxious to get away as soon as possible. "It is not usual," replied the notary. "Is there no one in the palace? One of the young princes would do admirably." "They are all away," said San Giacinto.
To think that if he, Giovanni Saracinesca, chose to marry any woman whatsoever, any one, no matter how exalted in station, should dare to express approval or disapproval was a shock to every inborn and cultivated prejudice in his nature.
"You do not seem to be in a good humour with Saracinesca to-day," remarked Corona, by way of answer. "Why do you defend him?" asked her husband, in a new fit of irritation. "He jars on my nerves, the sour old creature!" "I fancy all Rome will go to the Frangipani ball," began Corona again, without heeding the old man's petulance. "You seem to be interested in it," returned Astrardente.
This is how the matter lies. Listen, Tullia mia. The old Leone Saracinesca who last bore the title of Marquis " "The one mentioned here?" asked Donna Tullia, breathlessly. "Yes the one who took service under Murat, under Napoleon. Well, it is perfectly well known that he laid claim to the Roman title, and with perfect justice.
Do you wonder I rejoice, now that I am sure of putting an innkeeper over my enemy's head? Fancy the humiliation of old Saracinesca, of Giovanni, who will have to take his wife's title for the sake of respectability, of the Astrardente herself, when she finds she has married the penniless son of a penniless pretender!"
I am alive and well, as you see." A short explanation ensued, during which the surgeon was obliged to admit that as San Giacinto had no means of proving any identity he, the doctor in charge, had thought it best to send for the police, in view of the unquiet state of the city. "But what brought you here?" asked old Saracinesca, who was puzzled to account for his cousin's presence in the hospital.
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