settle this little matter, you'll see!"

The man looked up admiringly at the Englishman's commanding figure and
broad shoulders.

"I think they will run away from the Signor when they see him," he
whispered. "But let the Signor remember this: if one of them thrusts his
hand inside his coat, so, do not wait one moment--knock him down or get
out of his way. He will have the knife, and they know how to use it,
these brigands."

"Tell me the name of their leader--I mean the fellow who is trying to
carry off the Signorina. Will he be there?"

The man shook his head.

"I cannot tell the Signor his name. I dare not. I was once in his
service, and he has powers--hush!"

The two men held their breath, keeping well in the shadow of the orange
grove. They had reached the road, and in the distance they could hear
the sound of approaching voices.

"I leave you now, Signor," whispered his companion to the Englishman. "I
dare not be seen. To-morrow, at the hotel."

He glided noiselessly away. The Englishman scarcely heard him, he was
listening intently. Light footsteps were coming along the winding road
toward him, and soon a laughing voice rang out upon the night air.

"My dear Adrienne, don't you think we were a little foolish to walk home
so late as this? See, there is not a soul upon the promenade."

"_Tant mieux!_" was the light answer. "Is it not to escape from them
all, that we came this way? The stillness is exquisite, and the night
breeze from the sea, after that hot room, is divine. What a view we
shall have of the bay when we get to the top of the hill."

"They say that this place is infested with robbers, and it is terribly
lonely," was the somewhat fearful answer. "Why would you not let poor
Leonardo come with us?"

"Because I did not want Leonardo, _cherie_. Leonardo is very good, but
he wearies me by persisting to dwell upon a forbidden subject; and as
for protection--well, I fancy Giovanni is sufficient."

They were passing him now so close that he felt impelled to hold his
breath. He had only a momentary glimpse of them, but it was sufficient.
A few yards behind, a sullen-looking servant was trudging along, looking
carefully around. In the white moonlight their faces, even their
expressions, were perfectly visible to him; Adrienne's rapt and absorbed
by the still restful beauty of the dreaming night, and indifferent to
all fear; her companion, whose dark eyes were glancing somewhat
anxiously around he