s fellows was
entirely empty until a much later hour; but Astrardente was not
disappointed to-day. Twenty or thirty men were congregated in the large
hall which served as a smoking-room, and all of them were talking
together excitedly. As the door swung on its hinges and the old dandy
entered, a sudden silence fell upon the assembly. Astrardente naturally
judged that the conversation had turned upon himself, and had been
checked by his appearance; but he affected to take no notice of the
occurrence, adjusting his single eyeglass in his eye and serenely
surveying the men in the room. He could see that, although they had been
talking loudly, the matter in hand was serious enough, for there was no
trace of mirth on any of the faces before him. He at once assumed an air
of gravity, and going up to Valdarno, who seemed to have occupied the
most prominent place in the recent discussion, he put his question in an
undertone.

"I suppose Spicca killed him?"

Valdarno nodded, and looked grave. He was a thoughtless young fellow
enough, but the news of the tragedy had sobered him. Astrardente had
anticipated the death of Casalverde, and was not surprised. But he was
not without human feeling, and showed a becoming regret at the sad end of
a man he had been accustomed to see so frequently.

"How was it?" he asked.

"A simple 'un, deux,' tierce and carte at the first bout. Spicca is as
quick as lightning. Come away from this crowd," added Valdarno, in a low
voice, "and I will tell you all about it."

In spite of his sorrow at his friend's death, Valdarno felt a certain
sense of importance at being able to tell the story to Astrardente.
Valdarno was vain in a small way, though his vanity was to that of the
old Duca as the humble violet to the full-blown cabbage-rose. Astrardente
enjoyed a considerable importance in society as the husband of Corona,
and was an object of especial interest to Valdarno, who supported the
incredible theory of Corona's devotion to the old man. Valdarno's stables
were near the club, and on pretence of showing a new horse to
Astrardente, he nodded to his friends, and left the room with the aged
dandy. It was a clear, bright winter's morning, and the two men strolled
slowly down the Corso towards Valdarno's palace.

"You know, of course, how the affair began?" asked the young man.

"The first duel? Nobody knows--certainly not I."

"Well--perhaps not," returned Valdarno, doubtfully. "At all events, you