and among the many drafts daily bought and sold, it was almost impossible
to identify, without the aid of the banker's books, the person who
chanced to buy any particular one. The addresses were, it is true,
uniformly written by the same hand; but the writing was in no way
peculiar, and was certainly not that of any prominent person whose
autograph the Cardinal possessed.

The next step was to get possession of some letter written by Del Ferice
himself, and, if possible, to intercept everything he wrote. But although
the letters containing the drafts were regularly opened, and, after
having been examined and sealed again, were regularly transmitted
through the post-office to Ugo's address, the expert persons set to catch
the letters he himself wrote were obliged to own, after three weeks'
careful watching, that he never seemed to write any letters at all, and
that he certainly never posted any. They acknowledged their failure to
the Cardinal with timid anxiety, expecting to be reprimanded for their
carelessness. But the Cardinal merely told them not to relax their
attention, and dismissed them with a bland smile. He knew, now, that he
was on the track of mischief; for a man who never writes any letters at
all, while he receives many, might reasonably be suspected of having a
secret post-office of his own. For some days Del Ferice's movements were
narrowly watched, but with no result whatever. Then the Cardinal sent for
the police register of the district where Del Ferice lived, and in which
the name, nationality, and residence of every individual in the "Rione"
or quarter were carefully inscribed, as they still are.

Running his eye down the list, the Cardinal came upon the name of
"Temistocle Fattorusso, of Naples, servant to Ugo dei Conti del Ferice:"
an idea struck him.

"His servant is a Neapolitan," he reflected. "He probably sends his
letters by way of Naples."

Accordingly Temistocle was watched instead of his master. It was found
that he frequented the society of other Neapolitans, and especially that
he was in the habit of going from time to time to the Ripa Grande, the
port of the Tiber, where he seemed to have numerous acquaintances among
the Neapolitan boatmen who constantly came up the coast in their
"martingane"--heavy, sea-going, lateen-rigged vessels, bringing cargoes
of oranges and lemons to the Roman market. The mystery was now solved.
One day Temistocle was actually seen giving a letter into the