th all he had told her about Pina, Trombin, and Gambardella.

CHAPTER XVII

Two days after the affair at the Palazzo Riario, Don Alberto sauntered
out of his palace gate before the sun was high, and as he was merely
going for a stroll to breathe the morning air he was alone. As a matter
of fact, the air smelt of cabbage, broccoli, and other green things, for
a hawker of vegetables had set down his three baskets at the corner of
the Via del Gesu, and was bawling his cry to the whole neighbourhood at
the top of his lusty voice. There had been a light shower before dawn,
and the wet cobble-stones sent up a peculiar odour of their own, which
mingled with that of the green stuff. Don Alberto did not like it and
turned to his left, towards the Palazzo di Venezia, which was then the
Venetian Embassy.

Where the street narrows between the Altieri palace and the church, a
serving-man in grey overtook him and spoke to him.

'Excellency,' the man said in an obsequious tone, his hat in his hand,
'I pray the favour of a word.'

Don Alberto stopped in some surprise, for he had not noticed any one but
the vegetable hawker in the deserted square when he had left his own
door a moment earlier.

'What do you want?' he asked suspiciously, and stopping to face the man.

It was Tommaso, the ex-highwayman who served the Bravi, and the
expression of his eyes was not reassuring.

'Your Excellency does not remember me,' he said. 'How should the Most
Illustrious remember a poor valet? I served the Bishop of Porto for
seven years, and often accompanied him to the palace here when he
visited His Eminence Cardinal Altieri, who is now our Most Holy Father,
Pope Clement. Your Excellency was only a boy then, and once did me the
honour to speak to me.'

'What did I say to you?' asked Don Alberto incredulously.

'I should not dare to repeat such a word,' answered Tommaso in a humble
tone, 'but your Excellency kicked me at the same time, and with great
strength for one so very young, for I tumbled downstairs.'

Don Alberto's lips twitched with amusement.

'I believe I remember you by that, you scoundrel,' he said with a smile.
'And what do you want of me now? Shall I give you another kick?'

'May that never be, Excellency! I can feel the first one still!'

Don Alberto laughed at the comically significant gesture that
accompanied this speech, and felt in his pocket for his purse.

'I suppose you want a paul to drink my health,' he