“I hope not, I hope not,” said Sir John.  “Go your own way—­and count upon me, at least, in the pinch—­if pinch there is to be.  But remember this.  Count Giraldi is the Chief Minister of this Government, and this Government is your host.  Count Giraldi is therefore major-domo.  Keep in with him, my dear sir, by all means, unless you desire (a) your conge, or (b) an extortionate bill for breakages and arrears.  I need only mention the name of the Marchese Semifonte—­no more on that head.”

“No more indeed,” says I, very short.  “But as to Count Giraldi, I can assure you that I have no quarrel with his Excellency, who (idle rumours apart) has never, to my knowledge, impugned my honour.”

“Why no,” said Sir John, with a queer frown, “nor need he ever—­so long as you clearly perceive wherein your honour lies.”

“I do perceive it most clearly,” I replied, “and believe that I have always perceived it since that fatal night when I forgot that I had any.  I am so sure of it now that I shall not hesitate for a moment.  With your permission, sir, I shall set about it this very hour.”

“What the devil are you going to do, my dear sir?” cried the Minister.

“I am going to leave Florence,” I said, “so soon as ever I have done my present business.”

Sir John puffed out his cheeks and let his relief escape in a volley.  “Poh!  How you put me about,” said he.  “I thought you were for the count’s throat.  I thought—­body of me, I know not what I thought.  As for the doctor, you’ll find him easy handling.  The good man knows where his comforts are, and whence they come.  Why, supposing that you had never gone into his wife’s cupboard and stalked out of it again, would he at this day have been snug upon the bench, with house-room at the Villa San Giorgio?” Here was something strange.

“At the Villa San Giorgio?” I echoed with astonishment.  “Is Donna Giulia then——?”

Sir John looked sly.  “Donna Giulia,” he said, “was a sensible woman.  She knew very well the length of her shoe.  Donna Giulia has joined her husband at Naples—­a Court appointment and a good house.  Dr. Lanfranchi occupies the Villa San Giorgio.  Now do you see how the land lies?” I frowned and squared my chin.  I think that I was disturbed because I did not then see how the land lay.  I suspected, however, that Sir John knew more than he chose to tell me.  I rose to take leave of him.  There was something about me which he noticed.

“You are going to the doctor?” he said.  “You will find him in court.”

“I am going,” I said, “to the Villa San Giorgio.”

He showed his alarm by saying, “You may regret it; you may regret it all your life long.”

“I shall regret that I ever lived if I do not go,” said I. As I went out Sir John threw up his hands.

CHAPTER XLII

I STAND AT A CROSS-ROAD

I did not go immediately to the Villa San Giorgio; it was necessary that I should be clear why I was to go there at all.  How did I stand with regard to Donna Aurelia—­did I love her still, or was I cured of my wound?  If I loved her, to go to her now were to play the criminal; if I did not, it might be to play the fool.