As the wretched vettura bumped over the pavement of the Lung 'Arno, Aldean scanned the faces of the chattering and gesticulating crowd. The sun was dying in splendour over Bello Sguardo Hill. The river--yet to be swollen by its winter rains--caught up the golden light, and spread it over its vast gravel bed. To the green avenue of the Cascine a variety of carriages, from the springless conveyance of the streets to the imposing equipage emblazoned with armorial bearings commensurate in size only with the age of the families they represented, were hurrying there to parade between the mounted gendarmes at either end. These latter were quite admirable in their capacity of ornate signposts. Aldean found plenty to amuse him, but still there was no sign of either fugitive. His patience was beginning to show signs of wear, though there was no one to observe them but the cocchiere, and he was impervious to everything of that nature. Just then he became conscious of a man and a woman talking and laughing together in a smart green victoria. They were travelling in the same direction as himself, and, as they passed him, he noticed the coachman was in livery. With something like a sigh of relief Aldean leaned forward to instruct his man to follow--a somewhat difficult task to him, for his Italian was none of the best in his calmest of moments. "Cocchiere! Carozza! la carozza verdi, subito, presto." The Italian jehu nodded and cracked his whip. At the same moment the green victoria was stopped in the crowd. In another moment he would have been alongside. "No, no!" shouted Aldean, laying his hand on the man's arm. The bewildered cocchiere pulled up. Then Carson's carriage began to move out of the throng. "Si! Si!" cried Aldean, in answer to the interrogative aspect of his coachman. "Adagio! piano! slow, you fool!" Jim's driver became suddenly inspired. He caught sight of a lady in the green carriage. He was evidently driving a jealous husband bent upon the spoliation of an intrigue. This appealed to him in every way. With the greatest skill he kept in the rear of Carson's vehicle, and turned only to hold up his five fingers twice. "Dieci lire!" he said, as his inspirations--now aspirations--took definite shape. "Si! si! venti lire si vi piace! adagio! comprenez? Parlezvous Francais? non! ah quelle dommage. Allez! piano! Go slow, you ass!" Thus did Aldean frantically endeavour to make himself clear. But those two words, "venti lire," had done their work, and Jim congratulated himself on his linguistic attainments. "Easier job than I thought," he said to himself. "I'll stick to Carson till I catch him. The brute! he doesn't know I am at his tail. Gigglin' and laughin' with that girl--hang him! hang her! hang 'em both!"