“You taught her the lesson admirably,” said the Baroness with withering scorn.  “She told me the same story almost word for word!”

“Madam,” Malipieri answered, “I give you my word of honour that it is true.”

“My dear,” Volterra said, speaking to his wife, “when a gentleman gives his word of honour, you are bound to accept it.”

“I hope so,” said Malipieri.

“Any man would perjure himself for a woman,” retorted the Baroness with contempt.

“No, my dear,” the Baron objected, trying to mollify her.  “Perjury is a crime, you know.”

“And what he has done is a much worse crime!” she cried.

“I have not committed any crime,” Malipieri answered.  “I would give all I possess, and my life, to undo what has happened, but I have neither said nor done anything to be ashamed of.  For Donna Sabina’s sake, you must accept my explanation.  In time you will believe it.”

“Yes, yes,” urged Volterra, “I am sure you will, my dear.  In any case you must accept it as the only one.  I will go downstairs with Signor Malipieri and we will take the porter to the cellars.  Then you can go out with Sabina, and if you are careful no one will ever know that she has been here.”

“And do you mean to let her live under your roof after this?” asked the Baroness indignantly.

“Her mother is now in Rome,” answered Volterra readily.  “When she is dressed, you will take her to the Princess, and you will say that as we are going away, we are reluctantly obliged to decline the responsibility of keeping the young girl with us any longer.  That is what you will do.”

“I am glad you admit at least that she cannot live with us any longer,” the Baroness answered.  “I am sure I have no wish to ruin the poor girl, who has been this man’s unhappy victim—­”

“Hush, hush!” interposed Volterra.  “You must really accept the explanation he has given.”

“For decency’s sake, you may, and I shall have to pretend that I do.  At least,” she continued, turning coldly to Malipieri, “you will make such reparation as is in your power.”

“I will do anything I can,” answered Malipieri gravely.

“You will marry her as soon as possible,” the Baroness said with frigid severity.  “It is the only thing you can do.”

Malipieri was silent.  The Baron looked at him, and a disagreeable smile passed over his fat features.  But at that moment the door opened, and Sabina entered.  Without the least hesitation she came forward to Malipieri, frankly holding out her hand.

“Good morning,” she said.  “Before I go, I wish to thank you again for saving my life, and for taking care of me here.”

He held her hand a moment.

“I ask your pardon, with all my heart, for having brought you into danger and trouble,” he answered.

“It was not your fault,” she said.  “It was nobody’s fault, and I am glad I saw the statues before any one else.  You told me last night that you were probably going away.  If we never meet again, I wish you to remember that you are not to reproach yourself for anything that may happen to me.  You might, you know.  Will you remember?”