xt and watchword when
I awoke in the morning. I forget how well you know your Swinburne,
Bunny; but don't you run away with the idea that there was anything
else in common between his Faustine and mine. For the last time let me
tell you that poor Faustina was the whitest and the best I ever knew.

"Well, I was strung up for trouble when the next Saturday came, and
I'll tell you what I had done. I had broken the pledge and burgled
Corbucci's villa in my best manner during his absence in Naples. Not
that it gave me the slightest trouble; but no human being could have
told that I had been in, when I came out. And I had stolen nothing,
mark you, but only borrowed a revolver from a drawer in the Count's
desk, with one or two trifling accessories; for by this time I had the
measure of these damned Neapolitans. They are spry enough with a
knife, but you show them the business end of a shooting-iron, and
they'll streak like rabbits for the nearest hole. But the revolver
wasn't for my own use. It was for Faustina, and I taught her how to
use it in the cave down there by the sea, shooting at candles stuck
upon the rock. The noise in the cave was something frightful, but high
up above it couldn't be heard at all, as we proved to each other's
satisfaction pretty early in the proceedings. So now Faustina was
armed with munitions of self-defence; and I knew enough of her
character to entertain no doubt as to their spirited use upon occasion.
Between the two of us, in fact, our friend Stefano seemed tolerably
certain of a warm week-end.

"But the Saturday brought word that the Count was not coming this week,
being in Rome on business, and unable to return in time; so for a whole
Sunday we were promised peace; and made bold plans accordingly. There
was no further merit in hushing this thing up. 'Let him who wins her
take and keep Faustine.' Yes, but let him win her openly, or lose her
and be damned to him! So on the Sunday I was going to have it out with
her people--with the Count and Stefano as soon as they showed their
noses. I had no inducement, remember, ever to return to surreptitious
life within a cab-fare of Wormwood Scrubbs. Faustina and the Bay of
Naples were quite good enough for me. And the prehistoric man in me
rather exulted in the idea of fighting for my desire.

"On the Saturday, however, we were able to meet for the last time as
heretofore--just once more in secret--down there in the cave--as soon
as