ith Nera Boccarini, and that he would
certainly marry her. Malatesta laughed, as is his way, then he swore
a little. Nobili would do no such thing, he declared, he would
answer for it. He had it on the best authority, he said, that of an
eye-witness." (Ah, cruel old Carlotta, you have made good your threat
of vengeance!) "An eye-witness had said that Nobili was in love
with some one else--some one who wrote to him; that they had been
watched--that he met some one secretly, and that by-and-by all the
city would know it, and that there would be a great scandal."

"And who may the lady be?" asked the cavaliere carelessly, raising
his head as he put the question, with a sardonic glance at Baldassare.
"Not that I believe one word Malatesta says. He is a young coxcomb,
and you, Baldassare, are a parrot, and repeat what you hear. Per
Bacco! if there had been any thing serious, I should have known it
long ago. Who is the lady?" Spite of himself, however, his blue eyes
sparkled with curiosity.

"The marchesa's niece, Enrica Guinigi."

"What!" roared out the cavaliere, striking his stick so violently on
the ground that the sound echoed through the solitary street. "Enrica
Guinigi, whom I see every day! What a lie!--what a base lie! How dare
Malatesta--the beast--say so? I will chastise him myself!--with my own
hand, old as I am, I will chastise him! Enrica Guinigi!"

Baldassare shrugged his shoulders and made a grimace. This incensed
the cavaliere more violently.

"Now, listen to me, Baldassare Lena," shouted the cavaliere,
advancing, and putting his fist almost into his face. "Your father is
a chemist; and keeps a shop. He is not a doctor, though you call
him so. If ever you presume again to repeat scandals such as
this--scandals, I say, involving the reputation of noble ladies, my
friends--ladies into whose houses I have introduced you, there shall
be no more question of your being of their '_set_.' I will take care
that you never enter one of their doors again. By the body of my holy
ancestor, San Riccardo, I will disgrace you--publicly disgrace you!"

Trenta's rosy face had grown purple, his lips worked convulsively. He
raised his stick, and flourished it in the air, as if about to make it
descend like a truncheon on Baldassare's shoulders. Adonis drew back a
step or two, following with his eyes the cavaliere's movements. He
was quite unmoved by his threats. Not a day passed that Trenta did not
threaten him with his et