'But no, signore, she do not comprehend. She sink Meestair Jayreem Ailyar is ze brover who is not arrive. She leave it for him when he come.' 'Ah!' Tony ripped it open and read it through with a chuckle. He read it a second time and his face grew grave. He thrust it into his pocket and strode away without a word for Gustavo. Gustavo looked after him reproachfully. As a head waiter, he naturally did not expect to read the letters of guests; but as a fellow conspirator, he felt that he was entitled to at least a general knowledge of all matters bearing on the conspiracy. He turned back downstairs with a disappointed droop to his shoulders. Tony closed his door and walked to the window, where he stood staring at the roof of Villa Rosa. He drew the letter from his pocket and read it for the third time slowly, thoughtfully, very, very soberly. The reason was clear; she was tired of Tony and was looking ahead for fresh worlds to conquer. Jerry Junior was to come next. He understood why she had been so complaisant to-day. She wished the curtain to go down on the comedy note. To-morrow, the nameless young American, the 'Abraham Lincoln' of the register, would call--by the gate--would be received graciously, introduced in his proper person to the guests; the story of the donkey-man would be recounted and laughed over, and he would be politely asked when he was planning to resume his travels. This would be the end of the episode. To Constance, it had been merely an amusing farce about which she could boast when she returned to America. In her vivacious style it would make a story, just as her first meeting with Jerry Junior had made a story. But as for the play itself, for _him_, she cared nothing. Tony the man had made no impression. He must pass on and give place to Jerry Junior. A flush crept over Tony's face and his mouth took a straighter line as he continued to gaze down on the roof of Villa Rosa. His reflections were presently interrupted by a knock. He turned and threw the door open with a fling. 'Well?' he inquired. Gustavo took a step backward. '_Scusi_, signore, but zay are eating ze dessart and in five--ten minutes ze omnibus will arrive.' 'The omnibus?' Tony stared. 'Oh!' he laughed shortly. 'I was just joking, Gustavo.' Gustavo bowed and turned down the corridor; there was a look on Tony's face that did not encourage confidences. He had not gone half a dozen steps, however, when the door opened again and Tony called him back. 'I am going away to-morrow morning--by the first boat this time--and you mustn't let my aunt and sister know. I will write two letters and you are to take them down to the steward of the boat that leaves to-night. Ask him to put on Austrian stamps and mail them at Riva, so they'll get back here to-morrow. Do you understand?' Gustavo nodded and backed away. His disappointment this time was too keen for words. He saw stretching before him a future like the past, monotonously bereft of plots and masquerades.