was fast back on the road to London, and Frank had
to return as he could. He then hunted for the count everywhere, and saw
him no more. It was late in the day when Frank found me out with this
news. I became seriously alarmed. Peschiera might perhaps learn my
counter-scheme with the yacht, or he might postpone sailing until he had
terrified or entangled Violante into some--In short, everything was to
be dreaded from a man of the count's temper. I had no clew to the place
to which your daughter was taken, no excuse to arrest Peschiera, no
means even of learning where he was. He had not returned to Mivart's.
The Police was at fault, and useless, except in one valuable piece
of information. They told me where some of your countrymen, whom
Peschiera's perfidy had sent into exile, were to be found. I
commissioned Giacomo to seek these men out, and induce them to man the
vessel. It might be necessary, should Peschiera or his confidential
servants come aboard, after we had expelled or drawn off the pirate
crew, that they should find Italians whom they might well mistake for
their own hirelings. To these foreigners I added some English sailors
who had before served in the same vessel, and on whom Spendquick assured
me I could rely. Still these precautions only availed in case Peschiera
should resolve to sail, and defer till then all machinations against
his captives. While, amidst my fears and uncertainties, I was struggling
still to preserve presence of mind, and rapidly discussing with the
Austrian prince if any other steps could be taken, or if our sole
resource was to repair to the vessel and take the chance of what might
ensue, Leonard suddenly and quietly entered my room. You know his
countenance, in which joy or sadness is not betrayed so much by
the evidence of the passions as by variations in the intellectual
expression. It was but by the clearer brow and the steadier eye that I
saw he had good tidings to impart."

"Ah," said Riccabocca,--for so, obeying his own request, we will yet
call the sage,--"ah, I early taught that young man the great lesson
inculcated by Helvetius. 'All our errors arise from our ignorance or our
passions.' Without ignorance and without passions, we should be serene,
all-penetrating intelligences."

"Mopsticks," quoth Harley, "have neither ignorance nor passions; but as
for their intelligence--"

"Pshaw!" interrupted Riccabocca,--"proceed."

"Leonard had parted from us some hours before. I