Hillard saw that this subject would admit of no further questions. The man with the scar had committed some inexcusable offense, and Mrs. Sandford had crossed him off the list. He knew that the Italian officer is, more or less, a lady's man; and the supreme confidence he has in the power of brass buttons and gold lace makes him at times insufferable. It was after ten when Hillard and his friend took their leave. They would not see their host and hostess again till they reached New York. Upon coming out on the Corso, Hillard whistled merrily. "Pleasant evening," was Merrihew's comment. Hillard continued to whistle. "Good dinner, too." The whistle went on serenely, in spite of Merrihew's obvious attempts to choke it off. "You seemed to have a good deal to say to Mrs. Sandford. She knows the lady who was in the house?" Still the whistle. "Say, wake up!" cried Merrihew impatiently. "We shall leave in the morning for Venice," said Hillard, taking up the tune again. "Venice? How about Rome and Florence?" "Which would you prefer: Rome and the antiquities, or Venice and--Kitty Killigrew?" "Kitty in Venice? Are you sure?" "She is there with La Signorina Capricciosa. Oh, this is a fine world, after all, and I was wrong to speak ill of it this morning." "If Kitty's in Venice, I'm an ungrateful beggar, too. But I do not see why Kitty's being in Venice excites you." "No? Well, fate writes that Kitty's mysterious prima donna and my Lady of the Mask are one and the same person." "No!" The two, without further words, marched along the middle of the Corso to the hotel, which was only a few steps away. They entered. The concierge started toward them as if he desired to impart some valuable information, but suddenly reconsidered, and retreated to his bandbox of an office and busied himself with the ever-increasing _debours_. The strangeness of his movements passed unnoticed by the two men, who continued on through the lobby, turning into the first corridor. Hillard inserted his key in the door of his room, unlocked it, and swung it inward. This done, he paused irresolutely on the threshold, and with good cause. "What the devil can this mean?" he whispered to Merrihew, who peered over his shoulder. Two dignified _carabinieri_ rose quickly and approached Hillard. There was something in the flashing eyes and set jaws that made him realize that the safest thing for him to do at that moment was to stand perfectly still! CHAPTER X CARABINIERI "Signori," began Hillard calmly, "before you act, will you not do me the honor to explain to me the meaning of this visit?" "It is not he!" said one of the _carabinieri_. "It is the master, and not the servant. This is Signore Hil_lar_, is it not?" he continued, addressing himself to Hillard. "Yes." "The signore has a servant by the name of Giovanni?" "Yes. And what has he done to warrant this visit?" Hillard asked less calmly.