t.'

'Ah! easiest, is it?' Captain Weisspriess 'frowned meditative' over this
remarkable statement of a system. 'Well, it certainly saves trouble.
Besides, my good Pericles, none but an ass would quarrel with you. I was
observing that General Pierson wants his nephew to marry the Countess
Lena immediately; and if, as you tell me, this girl Belloni, who is
called la Vittoria--the precious little woman!--has such power over him,
it's quite as well, from the General's point of view, that she should
be out of the way at Sonnenberg. I have my footing at the Duchess of
Graath's. I believe she hopes that I shall some day challenge and kill
her husband; and as I am supposed to have saved Major de Pyrmont's
life, I am also an object of present gratitude. Do you imagine that your
little brown-eyed Belloni scented one of her enemies in me?'

'I know nothing of imagination,' the Signor Antonio observed frigidly.

'Till we meet!' Captain Weisspriess kissed his fingers, half as up
toward the windows, and half to the Greek. 'Save me from having to teach
love to your Irma!'

He ran to join his servant.

Luigi had heard much of the conversation, as well as the last sentence.

'It shall be to la Irma if it is to anybody,' Luigi muttered.

'Let Weisspriess--he will not awake love in her--let him kindle hate,
it will do,' said the Signor Antonio. 'She has seen him, and if he meets
her on the route to Meran, she will think it her fascination.'

Looking at his watch and at the lighted windows, he repeated his special
injunctions to Luigi. 'It is near the time. I go to sleep. I am getting
old: I grow nervous. Ten-twenty in addition, you shall have, if all
is done right. Your weekly pay runs on. Twenty--you shall have thirty!
Thirty napoleons additional!'

Ten fingers were flashed thrice.

Luigi gave a jump. 'Padrone, they are mine.'

'Animal, that shake your belly-bag and brain-box, stand!' cried the
Greek, who desired to see Luigi standing firm that he might inspire
himself with confidence in his integrity. When Luigi's posture had
satisfied him, he turned and went off at great strides.

'He does pay,' Luigi reflected, seeing that immense virtue in his
patron. 'Yes, he pays; but what is he about? It is this question for
me--"Do I serve my hand? or, Do I serve my heart?" My hand takes the
money, and it is not German money. My heart gives the affection, and the
signorina has my heart. She reached me that cigarette on the Motterone