he others were silent. An embarrassing pause ensued. At last Marinier
said:

"We will discuss this again to-night."

"Yes," answered Selva quietly; "we will discuss it again to-night."

He felt he had found an adversary in this abbe, and he thought Dane had
committed an error both of judgment and of tact in inviting him to the
meeting. At the same time he comforted himself with the tacit reflection
that it would be an advantage to hear all possible objections set
forth; and that a friend of Professor Dane was, at least, sure to be
trustworthy, and would not divulge names and speeches it were better to
keep secret for the present. Young di Leyni, on the other hand, was very
apprehensive of this danger knowing how many and how various were the
Abbe Marinier's acquaintances in Rome, where he had lived for five
years, pursuing certain historical studies; and he was also annoyed at
not having known of his coming in time to write to Selva, suggesting the
advisability of seeking to propitiate him, beginning through his palate.
The table at the Selvas', always exquisitely neat, and decorated with
flowers, was most frugal, and very simple as regards food. The Selvas
never drank wine, and the pale, acid wine of Subiaco could only have
a souring effect on a man accustomed to French vintages. The girl from
Affile had already served the coffee, when, at the same moment, Don
Clemente arrived on foot from Santa Scolastica, and Dane, Professor
Salvati, and Professor Minucci, in a two-horse carriage, from Subiaco.
But Don Clemente, who was followed by his gardener, seeing the carriage
approaching the gate of the villa, and understanding that it brought
guests for the Selvas, hastened his steps, that Giovanni might see the
gardener and speak with him a few moments before the meeting.

The Selvas and their three companions had risen from the table,
and Maria, coming out to the terrace on the arm of the gallant Abbe
Marinier, saw, in spite of the growing darkness, the Benedictine on the
steep path leading up from the gate which opened upon the public road.
She greeted him from above, and begged him to wait for a light at the
foot of the stairs. She herself descended the winding stairs with the
light, and signed to Don Clemente that she wished to speak to him,
casting a significant glance in the direction of the man standing behind
him. Don Clemente turned, and requested him to wait outside under
the acacias. Then, having ascended a few