"_Felicissima
notte_, Signore Giovanni," she murmured, as she slowly disengaged
herself from his embrace. "You are a dear, good man, and I will go
with you across the great sea."
IV.
Since their first parting, Vincent and Cranbrook had seen little of
each other. They had met occasionally in the Vatican galleries, in the
palace of the Caesars, and on the Monte Pincio, and had then stopped to
shake hands and to exchange a few friendly inquiries, but Cranbrook,
for a reason which he strove hard to embellish, had hitherto refrained
from inviting Harry to visit him in his dwelling. The latter had of
course noticed this omission, but had attributed it to a very
pardonable desire on Jack's part to keep him in ignorance as to the
real state of his finances. "He is probably living in some cheap
hovel," he thought, "and he is too proud to wish me to know it. But he
needn't be afraid of my intruding upon his privacy until he himself
opens his door to me." Unfortunately for both, Harry was not destined
to carry out this amiable intention. A hostile fate led him to
encroach upon his friend's territory when he was least suspecting it.
It was a sunny day early in February. Antonio Caesarelli had saddled an
uncommonly hoary and wise-looking donkey, named Abraham, and, as was
his wont every Saturday, had repaired with it to the Piazza del Fiori,
where he sold _broccoli_ and other vegetables of the cabbage species.
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