breakfast has already been declined. Shall we hear what Dom Basilio
has to say?"

"I have nothing to say, Sir John," put in Brother Basilio, advancing,
"but to give you this letter and await your answer."

He drew a folded paper from his tunic and handed it to my father, who
rose to receive it, turned it over, and glanced at the
superscription. I saw a red flush creep slowly up to his temples and
fade, leaving his face extraordinarily pale. A moment later, in face
of his audience, he lifted the paper to his lips, kissed it
reverently, and broke the seal.

Again I saw the flush mount to his temples as he read the letter
through slowly and in silence. Then after a long pause he handed it
to me; and I took it wondering, for his eyes were dim and yet bright
with a noble joy.

The letter (turned into English) ran thus--

"_To Sir John Constantine, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the
Star, at his house of Constantine in Cornwall, England_.

"MY FRIEND,

"The bearer of this and his company have been driven by the
Genoese from their monastery of San Giorgio on my estate of
Casalabriva above the Taravo valley, the same where you will
remember our treading the vintage together to the freedom of
Corsica. But the Genoese have cut down my vines long since,