Very shocking. And you
actually entertained no alarm for yourself?"

"None in the least. To tell you the truth, I am armed against
contagious illnesses, by a conviction I have that I am not doomed to
die of any disease. A prophecy"--and here a cloud crossed his
features--"an odd prophecy was made about me when I was born, which,
whether it comes true or not, prevents me from panic in days of plague."

"Indeed!" I said, with interest, for this was news to me. "And may one
ask what this prophecy is?"

"Oh, certainly. It is to the effect that I shall die a violent death by
the hand of a once familiar friend. It was always an absurd
statement--an old nurse's tale--but it is now more absurd than ever,
considering that the only friend of the kind I ever had or am likely to
have is dead and buried--namely, Fabio Romani."

And he sighed slightly. I raised my head and looked at him steadily.

CHAPTER XII.

The sheltering darkness of the spectacles I wore prevented him from
noticing the searching scrutiny of my fixed gaze. His face was shadowed
by a faint tinge of melancholy; his eyes were thoughtful and almost sad.

"You loved him well then in spite of his foolishness?" I said.

He roused himself from the pensive mood into which he had fallen, and
smiled.

"Loved him? No! Certainly not--nothing so strong as that! I liked him
fairly--he bought several pictures of me--a poor artist has always some
sort of regard for the man who buys his work. Yes, I liked him well
enough--till he married."

"Ha! I suppose his wife came between you?" He flushed slightly, and
drank off the remainder of his cognac in haste.

"Yes," he replied, briefly, "she came between us. A man is never quite
the same after marriage. But we have been sitting a long time
here--shall we walk?"

He was evidently anxious to change the subject I rose slowly as though
my joints were stiff with age, and drew out my watch, a finely jeweled
one, to see the time. It was past nine o'clock.

"Perhaps," I said, addressing him, "you will accompany me as far as my
hotel. I am compelled to retire early as a rule--I suffer much from a
chronic complaint of the eyes as you perceive," here touching my
spectacles, "and I cannot endure much artificial light. We can talk
further on our way. Will you give me a chance of seeing your pictures?
I shall esteem myself happy to be one of your patrons."

"A thousand thanks!" he answered, gayly. "I will show you my poor