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Updated: June 3, 2025
Del Ferice left her dancing, and went home in his little coupé. He was desperately fatigued, for he was still very weak, and he feared lest his imprudence in going out so soon might bring on a relapse from his convalescence. Nevertheless, before he went to bed he dismissed Temistocle, and opened a shabby-looking black box which stood upon his writing-table.
She sent down to Del Ferice's lodgings, as Temistocle had anticipated, and the servant brought back word that he had not seen the Neapolitan, and that the house was held in possession by strangers, who refused him admittance. Madame Mayer understood well enough what had happened, and began to tremble for herself.
The son of Sor Temistocle has just cut off a finger to avoid the conscription, because he is mad about his cousin and afraid of being taken for a soldier; and it is a fact that some of the shirts which were made for him at the Stigmata had been sewn by Dionea;" ... and thus a perfect string of love misfortunes, enough to make a little "Decameron," I assure you, and all laid to Dionea's account.
Temistocle volunteered the information that her father had gone to the baron's apartment, and had not been seen since. She heard in silence, and bade the servant leave her as soon as he had ministered to her wants.
"It is the same thing," replied Nino. "Let us go." "But how is this?" objected Temistocle, seeing a new development. "It was the Signor Grandi whom I was to conduct." Nino was silent, but there was a crisp sound in the air as he took a banknote from his pocket-book. "Diavolo!" muttered the servant, "perhaps it may be right, after all." Nino gave him the note. "That is my passport," said he.
I will bring you the taper this evening." "Bring it now. I wish to be ready." Temistocle departed on the errand. When he returned Hedwig ordered him to give a message to her father. "When the count comes home, ask him to see me," she said. Temistocle bowed once more, and was gone. Yes, she would see her father, and tell him plainly what she had suffered from Benoni.
There was nothing to be gained by telling her the news, for she would probably in her rash way go to Del Ferice's house herself, as she had done once before, and on finding he was actually gone she would take charge of his effects, whereby Temistocle would be the loser.
No one ever went to Saracinesca, and by making a circuit he could reach the ancestral castle without creating suspicion. He might even go to Paris for a few days, and have it supposed that he was wandering about Europe, for he could trust his own servants implicitly; they were not of the type who would drink wine at a tavern with Temistocle or any of his class.
Del Ferice came out hastily in considerable agitation, which was by no means diminished by the sight of the well-known shabby black bag. Temistocle glanced round the hall to see that they were alone. "The forza the police," he whispered, "are in the house, Eccellenza. Here is the bag. Save yourself, for the love of heaven!" Del Ferice turned ghastly pale, and his face twitched nervously.
In the course of two hours Temistocle returned from Donna Tullia's house with a little scented note too much scented, and the paper just a shade too small. She took no notice of what he had said in his carefully penned epistle; but merely told him she was sincerely glad that he was better, and asked him to call as soon as he could.
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