"An under-footman," she replied, "who has since been discharged. His behaviour struck Conrad as being rather suspicious at the time, but it was not until other things were found to be missing, that we derived a real knowledge of his character." "I am rejoiced to know that the mystery has been solved," I said. "But pray forgive me, Countess; see, I have driven your friend away." She gave a start before she replied. "He is not my friend," she answered somewhat hurriedly, "merely a begging compatriot. The poor fellow is a teacher of music, who puts forward his art as a claim upon my bounty. He is anxious to return to Italy, but cannot do so for want of means." Now there was one point about this speech that I did not understand. As I had approached the seat, I distinctly heard the foreigner say authoritatively in Italian: "It is the order of the Council and must be obeyed." Of course the words might have meant anything, but the tone was certainly one of authority. It struck me as being peculiar that an impoverished music-master, soliciting the Countess's assistance, should address her in such a tone. Why I should have bothered myself with the fellow's affairs I cannot say. The impulse, however, was irresistible. "To be stranded in a strange country is a hard fate," I said. "Since I am also a devotee of his beautiful art, will you not permit me to assist you in your work of benevolence. If you will furnish me with the man's name and address, I will see that he is helped to attain his object." As I said this I could not help thinking that I detected a frightened look in her face. "Oh, no, you must not do that," she said hurriedly. "He is a very proud man, and would only accept help from me because I am a compatriot and happen to know something of his family. I feel sure that he would be extremely angry with me if he knew that I had said anything to you upon the subject." "I am sorry that you will not let me assist him," I said. "I have no desire, however, to hurt his feelings. Forget that I said anything about it." "Ah! now I have offended you," she continued, with a look of pain upon her face. "Forgive me, I am very thoughtless. Had we been speaking my own Italian it would have been different. Your English is so hard, so unsympathetic." Her voice was so full of entreaty, her whole demeanour so expressive of sorrow, that I almost repented me of the trick I had endeavoured to play upon her. What did it matter to me whether the man were an old friend, or only the stranger she had represented him to be? I accordingly begged her to say no more upon the subject, assuring her that I was not in the least hurt at her declining my offer. This seemed to soothe her, and presently, when we had walked some little distance beside the water, her cheerfulness returned. She had been amusing herself of late, so she informed me, by working out a sketch for the dinner-party to which she had invited me. It was to be an unique affair of its kind.