“And the third plan—­what is it?” inquired Orsino.

“The third way is this.  You can go to Del Ferice, and if you are a diplomatist you may persuade him that it is in his interest not to let you fail.  I do not think you will succeed, but you can try.  If he agrees it will be because he counts on your father to pay in the end, but it is questionable whether Del Ferice’s bank can afford to let out any more cash at the present moment.  Money is going to be very tight, as they say.”

Orsino smoked in silence, pondering over the situation.  San Giacinto rose.

“You are warned, at all events,” he said.  “You will find a great change for the worse in the general aspect of things to-morrow.”

“I am much obliged for the warning,” answered Orsino.  “I suppose I can always find you if I need your advice—­and you will advise me?”

“You are welcome to my advice, such as it is, my dear boy.  But as for me, I am going towards Naples to-night on business, and I may not be back again for a day or two.  If you get into serious trouble before I am here again, you should go to your father at once.  He knows nothing of business, and has been sensible enough to keep out of it.  The consequence is that he is as rich as ever, and he would sacrifice a great deal rather than see your name dragged into the publicity of a failure.  Good-night, and good luck to you.”

Thereupon the Titan shook Orsino’s hand in his mighty grip and went away.  As a matter of fact he was going down to look over one of Montevarchi’s biggest estates with a view to buying it in the coming cataclysm, but it would not have been like him to communicate the smallest of his intentions to Orsino, or to any one, not excepting his wife and his lawyer.

Orsino was left to his own devices and meditations.  A servant came in and inquired whether he wished to dine at home, and he ordered strong coffee by way of a meal.  He was at the age when a man expects to find a way out of his difficulties in an artificial excitement of the nerves.

Indeed, he had enough to disturb him, for it seemed as though all possible misfortunes had fallen upon him at once.  He had suffered on the same day the greatest shock to his heart, and the greatest blow to his vanity which he could conceive possible.  Maria Consuelo was gone and the failure of his business was apparently inevitable.  When he tried to review the three plans which San Giacinto had suggested, he found himself suddenly thinking of the woman he loved and making schemes for following her; but so soon as he had transported himself in imagination to her side and was beginning to hope that he might win her back, he was torn away and plunged again into the whirlpool of business at home, struggling with unheard of difficulties and sinking deeper at every stroke.

A hundred times he rose from his chair and paced the floor impatiently, and a hundred times he threw himself down again, overcome by the hopelessness of the situation.  Occasionally he found a little comfort in the reflexion that the night could not last for ever.  When the day came he would be driven to act, in one way or another, and he would be obliged to consult his partner, Contini.  Then at last his mind would be able to follow one connected train of thought for a time, and he would get rest of some kind.