An idea suddenly assailed Lieutenant di Ferara. He scrambled up the bank and skirted the wall, almost on a run, until he reached the place where his horse was tied. Two minutes later he was off at a gallop, headed for the house of the prefect of police of Valedolmo. CHAPTER XVI Tony jumped over the wall. He might have landed in the midst of a family party; but in so much luck was with him. He found the _Farfalla_ bobbing at the foot of the water-steps with Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel already embarked. They were waiting for Constance, who had obligingly run back to the house to fetch the rainbow shawl (finished that afternoon) as Miss Hazel distrusted the Italian night breeze. Constance stepped out from the door as Tony emerged from the bushes. She regarded him in startled surprise; he was still in some slight disarray from his encounter with the lieutenant. 'May I speak to you, Miss Wilder? I won't detain you but a moment.' She nodded and kept on, her heart thumping absurdly. He had received the letter, of course; and there would be consequences. She paused at the top of the water-steps. 'You go on,' she called to the others, and pick me up on your way back. Tony wants to see me about something, and I don't like to keep Mrs. Eustace and Nannie waiting.' Giuseppe pushed off and Constance was left standing alone on the water-steps. She turned as Tony approached; there was a touch of defiance in her manner. 'Well?' He came to her side and leaned carelessly against the parapet, his eyes on the _Farfalla_ as she tossed and dipped in the wash of the _Regina Margarita_ which was just puffing out from the village landing. Constance watched him, slightly taken aback; she had expected him to be angry, sulky, reproachful--certainly not nonchalant. When he finally brought his eyes from the water, his expression was mildly melancholy. 'Signorina, I have come to say good-bye. It is very sad, but to-morrow, I too'--he waved his hand toward the steamer--'shall be a passenger.' 'You are going away from Valedolmo?' He nodded. 'Unfortunately, yes. I should like to stay, but'--he shrugged--'life isn't all play, Miss Wilder. Though one would like to be a donkey-man for ever, one only may be for a summer's holiday. I am your debtor for a unique and pleasant experience.' She studied his face without speaking. Did it mean that he had got the letter and was hurt, or did it perhaps mean that he had got the letter and did not care to appear as Jerry Junior? That he enjoyed the play so long as he could remain incognito and stop it where he pleased, but that he had no mind to let it drift into reality? Very possibly it meant--she flushed at the thought--that he divined Nannie's plot, and refused also to consider the fourth candidate. She laughed and dropped into their usual jargon. 'And the young American man, Signor Abraham Lincoln, will he come to-morrow for tea?'