ill him at his
leisure and convenience, and nobody would be the wiser. The only
difficulty lay in establishing some sufficient reason why Stefanone
should wish to kill him at all, and in this Griggs signally failed,
which was not surprising.

All at once, as generally happened now, he lost all interest in the
matter and returned to his work; or rather, to speak as he might have
spoken, he set his mechanical self to work for him, while his own being
disappeared in blank indifference and unconsciousness. But on the
following day, which chanced to be a Sunday, he went out in the morning
for a walk. He rarely worked on Sundays, having long ago convinced
himself that a day of rest was necessary in the long run.

As he was coming home, he saw Lord Redin walking far in front of him
down the Corso, easily recognizable by his height and his loose,
swinging gait. Griggs had not proceeded many steps further when
Stefanone passed him, walking at a swinging stride. The peasant had
probably seen him, but chose to take no notice of him. Griggs allowed
him to get a fair start and then quickened his own pace, so as to keep
him in view. Lord Redin swung along steadily and turned up the Via
Condotti. Stefanone almost ran, till he, too, had turned the corner of
the street. Griggs, without running, nearly overtook him as he took the
same turn a moment later.

It was perfectly clear that Stefanone was dogging the Scotchman's
steps. The latter crossed the Piazza di Spagna, and entered the deep
archway of his hotel. The peasant slackened his speed at once and
lounged across the square towards the foot of the great stairway which
leads up to the Trinita de' Monti. Griggs followed him, and came up with
him just as he sat down upon a step beside one of the big stone posts,
to take breath and light his pipe. The man looked up, touched his hat,
smiled, and struck a sulphur match, which he applied to the tobacco in
the red clay bowl before the sulphur was half burned out, after the
manner of his kind.

"You have taken a walk, Signore," he observed, puffing away at the
willow stem and watching the match.

"You walk fast, Stefanone," answered Griggs. "You can walk as fast as
Lord Redin."

Stefanone did not show the least surprise. He pressed down the burning
tobacco with one horny finger, and carefully laid the last glowing bit
of the burnt-out wooden match upon it.

"For this, we are people of the mountains," he answered slowly. "We can
wal