“Wretch!” exclaimed the novelist.  “And you can jest after having committed that Judas-like act!  To inform a child of her father’s misdeeds, when she is ignorant of them!....  Never, do you hear, never any more will Monsieur de Montfanon and I set foot in your shop, nor Monseigneur Guerillot, nor any of the persons of my acquaintance.  I will tell the whole world of your infamy.  I will write it, and it shall appear in all the journals of Rome.  I will ruin you, I will force you to close this dusty old shop.”

During the entire day, Dorsenne vainly tried to shake off the weight of melancholy which that visit to the brigand of the Rue Borgognona had left upon his heart.

On crossing, at nine o’clock, the threshold of the Villa Steno to give an account of his mission to the Contessina, he was singularly moved.  There was no one there but the Maitlands, two tourists and two English diplomatists, on their way to posts in the East.

“I was awaiting you,” said Alba to her friend, as soon as she could speak with him in a corner of the salon.  “I need your advice.  Last night a tragical incident took place at the Hafner’s.”

“Probably,” replied Dorsenne.  “Fanny has bought Ribalta’s book.”

“She has bought the book!” said Alba, changing color and trembling.  “Ah, the unhappy girl; the other thing was not sufficient!”

“What other thing?” questioned Julien.

“You remember,” said the young girl, “that I told you of that Noe Ancona, the agent who served Hafner as a tool in selling up Ardea, and in thus forcing the marriage.  Well, it seems this personage did not think himself sufficiently well-paid for his complicity.  He demanded of the Baron a large sum, with which to found some large swindling scheme, which the latter refused point-blank.  The other threatened to relate their little dealing to Ardea, and he did so.”

“And Peppino was angry?” asked Dorsenne, shaking his head.  “That is not like him.”

“Indignant or not,” continued Alba, “last night he went to the Palais Savorelli to make a terrible scene with his future father-in-law.”

“And to obtain an increase of dowry,” said Julian.

“He was not by any means tactful, then,” replied Alba, “for even in the presence of Fanny, who entered in the midst of their conversation, he did not pause.  Perhaps he had drunk a little more than he could stand, which has of late become common with him.  But, you see, the poor child was initiated into the abominable bargain with regard to her future, to her happiness, and if she has read the book, too!  It is too dreadful!”

“What a violent scene!” exclaimed Dorsenne.  “So the engagement has been broken off?”

“Not officially.  Fanny is ill in bed from the excitement.  Ardea came this morning to see my mother, who has also seen Hafner.  She has reconciled them by proving to them, which she thinks true, that they have a common interest in avoiding all scandal, and arranging matters.  But it rests with the poor little one.  Mamma wished me to go, this afternoon, to beseech her to reconsider her resolution.  For she has told her father she never wishes to hear the Prince’s voice again.  I have refused.  Mamma insists.  Am I not right?”