r, and Giovanni's, whose furtive looks, more
expectant than apprehensive, marked him out to the Englishman as an
accomplice in whatever devilry was afoot. Unseen himself, he watched
them pass, and listened to their voices growing fainter and fainter in
the distance. They were out of sight and out of hearing.

He was preparing to follow them, when suddenly another sound broke the
stillness. He held his breath, and crouched down, watching. In a minute,
two dark forms, keeping carefully in the shadows by the side of the
road, crept stealthily past.

He waited till they, too, were out of sight, and then stood up with
tingling pulses, but quite cool. Moving on tip-toe, he stepped lightly
over the low stone wall into the road, and gazed after them.

The ascent was steep, and the road curved round and round in zig-zag
fashion. On one side it was bordered by a thickly-growing orange grove,
whose delicate perfume was sweetening the still languid air. On the
other was a stretch of waste open country, separated from the road by a
low wall. He chose the seaward side, and keeping under the shadow of the
trees, followed them, his footsteps sinking noiselessly into the thick
dust.

Once the two ladies paused to look back. He stopped too; and the two
bending figures between them drew closer into the shadows, and waited.
He was some distance away, but the sound of her voice floated clearly
down to him on a breath of that faint night air.

"Ah, how beautiful it is," she cried, pointing downward; "just a few
steps, and we shall see the sea glistening through the leaves of the
orange trees."

"I am sure that it is not prudent, Adrienne. We have come past the
footpath down to the villa, and this upper road is so lonely. Listen! I
fancied that I heard footsteps."

There was a moment's silence, then a low musical laugh which sounded to
him like the sweetest music.

"It was the echo of our own, you foolish child. There is nothing to
fear, and have we not Giovanni?"

Again they turned, and again he followed. Suddenly his heart gave a
great bound. About fifty yards in front of the two girls was a
rudely-built country carriage, drawn by a pair of mules and with a
single man on the box. They had paused at such an unexpected sight, and
seemed to be deliberating in whispers whether or no they should proceed.
Before they had come to any decision, the two men had crept out from the
shadow of the wall and trees into the road, and with bent b