As stated, I was not in good humor. No man could live in Rome, as I had lived in recent years, and fail to come close to deeds which non-Italian folk must needs call murder. Only the year before I had stood with my back to a wall and my rapier and three bravoes before me until timely help arrived; and I had met the instigator of those bravoes at a supper party not long since,--as polite and polished a nobleman as ever graced a court. Yet I had never actually been myself a prime mover in an assassination. I had killed my man in a duel, but that was another matter. I strongly suspected the cardinals had summoned me in, not to secure my help, but to laugh at my squeamishness, and I was inclined to wish that Orosi would grievously disappoint his employers, and turn the laugh against them. “After all,” I reflected, “I am not certain that I wish to enter the Church; and if I do, His Holiness can give me a better preferment than this debated to-day.” Likewise the memory of sundry injunctions of my father (grizzled warrior) must needs at such times ring in my ears, especially his word just ere he was slain at Ravenna. “You have your mother’s hair and eyes, my Walter, but your heart is from me; and remember that long as I have lived in this merry southland my heart is German. Live like a German, think like a German, and remember the German honor--the honor of the Regensteins. Many of us have been caught by the Devil; but never has the Devil caught us in the back!” “And may the Devil eat Orosi, and Forli, too!” I at length muttered. “If the chance comes, I am even minded to give the wink to poor Bari.” Yet despite my mood I quickened my steps, for I knew my lady would be ungracious over delaying. One or two excursions into the nooks of shrubbery failed to discover her, and I was a little at a loss until I ran upon one of the smooth-lipped eunuch-sopranos of His Holiness’s choir, who informed me that Donna Marianna was walking with a gentleman of the Spanish embassy, near the Pope’s casino; and so near the garden lodge I found her. Don Velasco let his mustaches quiver with vexation when he saw me,--surely he was having a most pleasant stroll under those splendid box trees: but Madonna knew how to do an ungracious thing graciously. Very politely she explained that the Conte di Palaestro was present by appointment: very ceremoniously Velasco and I scraped and flourished as he bade us farewell. Not until he was fairly out of sight behind a curve in the leafy way did her white hand go out to me, as I fell on my knees and kissed it; then I rose for a fairer kiss upon my lips, whereupon I forgot our conversation; for were we not close together, I at least intoxicated by the glory of her presence, and the mere joy of her companionship?