She was startled, for all her immobility—so startled, that he could see the breath jump in her bosom. But, in the very gasp of her fear, she caught herself to recollection, and stiffened, silent, to the ordeal she felt was coming. ’How did I know it was in your possession?’ he said, with a little whisper of a laugh. ’Your beauty is ever more speaking than your lips, Madonna; but I am an oracle: I can read the unspoken question. There is a creature, Narcisso his name, once fellow to a loved servant of our court. You know Messer Lanti? an honest, bluff gentleman. He did well to part with such a dangerous rogue. Why, the times are complicate: we should be choice in our confidants. This Narcisso is very well to slit a throat; but to negotiate a delicate theft——’ He paused. ’Go on,’ she whispered. ’I will be frank as day,’ he purred. ’’Twas seen on this rogue’s finger, when making for your house. It was not there when he left.’ ’The gloating fool!’ She stabbed out the words. ’Seen! By whom?’ ’By one,’ he answered, ’whose business it was to look for it.’ ’Who, I say?’ ’Most high lady, the very predestined man—no other. Would you still ask who? I had thought you more accomplished. Intrigue, like a statue, is not carved out with a single tool. The eyes, the ears, the lips, each demand their separate instrument. Dost thou seek to shape all with one? O, fie, fie!’ He shook his finger gaily at her. She sat, frowning, with her hands clenched before her; but she gave no answer. ’Why, I am but a tyro,’ said the prince; ’yet could I teach thee, it seems, some first precepts in our craft—as thus: Use things most useful for their uses; employ not your dagger as a shoe-horn, or it may chance to cut your heel; an instrument hath its purpose and design; think not one password will unlock all camps; selection is the cream of policy—and so on.’ She started to her feet, in an instant resolution. ’I have the ring,’ she said. He bowed suavely. She stared at him. ’What then, Messer?’ ’Why,’ he said, ’only that, do you not think, it were safer in my hands than in yours?’ ’Safer!’ she cried in a suppressed voice; ’for whom?’ ’Yourself,’ he answered serenely. ’Ah!’ she cried, ’you would threaten, if I refuse, to destroy me with it?’ He made a deprecating motion with his hands. ’Beware,’ she said fiercely; ’I can retort. Where is Tassino?’ He looked at her kindly. ’Madonna, do you not know? Nay, do I not know that you know? He lies hidden in the burrow of this same Narcisso.’ ’At whose instigation? Not yours, Messer—O no, of course, not yours!’ His lips never changed from their expression of smiling good-humour. ’Entirely at mine,’ he said. She gave a little gasp. His subtlety was too chill a thing for her fire; but she struggled against her quenching by it.