aid Giovanni, in cold, calm tones. "You are clearly mad."

"So I said," assented Corona, who was nevertheless pale, and trembling
with excitement.

"Allow me to speak with her," said Giovanni, who, like most dangerous
men, seemed to grow cold as others grew hot. Donna Tullia leaned upon the
table, breathing hard between her closed teeth, her face scarlet.

"Madame," said Giovanni, advancing a step and confronting her, "you say
that I am married, and that I am contemplating a monstrous crime. Upon
what do you base your extraordinary assertions?"

"Upon attested copies of your marriage certificate, of the civil register
where your handwriting has been seen and recognised. What more would you
have?"

"It is monstrous!" cried the Prince, advancing again. "It is the most
abominable lie ever concocted! My son married without my knowledge, and
to a peasant! Absurd!"

But Giovanni waved his father back, and kept his place before Donna
Tullia.

"I give you the alternative of producing instantly those proofs you refer
to," he said, "and which you certainly cannot produce, or of waiting in
this house until a competent physician has decided whether you are
sufficiently sane to be allowed to go home alone."

Donna Tullia hesitated. She was in a terrible position, for Del Ferice
had left Rome suddenly, and though the papers were somewhere in his
house, she knew not where, nor how to get at them. It was impossible to
imagine a situation more desperate, and she felt it as she looked
round and saw the pale dark faces of the three resolute persons whose
anger she had thus roused. She believed that Giovanni was capable of
anything, but she was astonished at his extraordinary calmness. She
hesitated for a moment.

"That is perfectly just," said Corona. "If you have proofs, you can
produce them. If you have none, you are insane."

"I have them, and I will produce them before this hour to-morrow,"
answered Donna Tullia, not knowing how she should get the papers, but
knowing that she was lost if she failed to obtain them.

"Why not to-day--at once?" asked Giovanni, with some scorn.

"It will take twenty-four hours to forge them," growled his father.

"You have no right to insult me so grossly," cried Donna Tullia. "But
beware--I have you in my power. By this time to-morrow you shall see with
your own eyes that I speak the truth. Let me go," she cried, as the old
Prince placed himself between her and the door.

"I will," said