other. "Here is my pocketbook to begin
with, and I will open an account for you with a Czernovicz banker."

What was most important of all, the smooth-tongued secretary had
entirely omitted,--namely, that the subject of his ingenious story was
at that moment alive and well, and waiting to see the sun rise over the
Toroczko hills.

After the prince had somewhat recovered from the effect produced upon
him by Benjamin Vajdar's announcement, he gave himself up to the
rapturous thought that now at last he could carry word to Rozina of his
wife's death. He sought her presence without delay.

The marchioness, cosily ensconced on her sofa, was either asleep, or
feigned to be, when Cagliari entered and whispered in her ear:

"Rozina, my wife is dead!"

Her eyes opened and a quick flush of pleasure overspread her face. "How?
When? Where?" she asked eagerly.

"At Nagy-Enyed--killed by the insurgents."

"Nonsense!" cried the marchioness. "Who told you so?"

"My private secretary, your favourite, Benjamin Vajdar. He has just read
it in the despatches received at the war office."

The listener's eyes flashed with scorn.

"I am telling you the truth," asserted the other, vehemently. "I give
you my word of honour, it is as I say. I have this moment given Vajdar
my purse and despatched him to Transylvania to bring the poor woman's
body back to Vienna." The prince seated himself in an armchair opposite
the marchioness, and continued: "I am even more eager than you to see
her laid to rest in my family vault. My motives are deeper and stronger
than yours. You have been longing for Blanka Zboroy's death because her
existence meant humiliation to you. This thought has brought unrest to
your pillow, but a legion of demons chases sleep from mine. Shall a
Cagliari suffer any living woman to drag his name in the mire before all
the world--to laugh to scorn the decree of the Roman Curia--to scratch
out his name after her own and replace it with that of a Szekler
peasant? That may be allowed to pass among common people, but the
descendants of the Ferraras will find a way, or make one, to prevent
such a scandal. It has become a necessity in my eyes that _she_ should
not walk the same planet with me."

The marchioness was listening by this time with wide eyes, flushed
cheeks, and parted lips.

"Of late I have suffered heavy losses," the speaker continued. "Formerly
my income amounted to a million and a half; now it is barely half a
mi