I went on dealing till midnight, and by that time I had only forty ounces left.  Everybody had won except Sir Rosebury, who had punted in English bank notes, which I had put into my pocket without counting.

When I got to my room I thought I had better look at the bank notes, for the depletion of my purse disquieted me.  My delight may be imagined.  I found I had got four hundred and fifty pounds—­more than double what I had lost.

I went to sleep well pleased with my day’s work, and resolved not to tell anyone of my good luck.

The duchess had arranged for us to start at nine, and Madame de Serra Capriola begged us to take coffee with her before going.

After breakfast Medini and Bettoni came in, and the former asked Hamilton whether he would mind his returning with us.  Of course, Hamilton could not refuse, so he came on board, and at two o’clock I was back at my inn.  I was astonished to be greeted in my antechamber by a young lady, who asked me sadly whether I remembered her.  She was the eldest of the five Hanoverians, the same that had fled with the Marquis dells Petina.

I told her to come in, and ordered dinner to be brought up.

“If you are alone,” she said, “I should be glad to share your repast.”

“Certainly; I will order dinner for two.”

Her story was soon told.  She had come to Naples with her husband, whom her mother refused to recognize.  The poor wretch had sold all he possessed, and two or three months after he had been arrested on several charges of forgery.  His poor mate had supported him in prison for seven years.  She had heard that I was at Naples, and wanted me to help her, not as the Marquis della Petina wished, by lending him money, but by employing my influence with the Duchess of Kingston to make that lady take her to England with her in her service.

“Are you married to the marquis?”

“No.”

“Then how could you keep him for seven years?”

“Alas . . . .  You can think of a hundred ways, and they would all be true.”

“I see.”

“Can you procure me an interview with the duchess?”

“I will try, but I warn you that I shall tell her the simple truth.”

“Very good.”

“Come again to-morrow.”

At six o’clock I went to ask Hamilton how I could exchange the English notes I had won, and he gave me the money himself.

Before supper I spoke to the duchess about the poor Hanoverian.  My lady said she remembered seeing her, and that she would like to have a talk with her before coming to any decision.  I brought the poor creature to her the next day, and left them alone.  The result of the interview was that the duchess took her into her service in the place of a Roman girl, and the Hanoverian went to England with her.  I never heard of her again, but a few days after Petina sent to beg me to come and see him in prison, and I could not refuse.  I found him with a young man whom I recognized as his brother, though he was very handsome and the marquis very ugly; but the distinction between beauty and ugliness is often hard to point out.