look, and said, "Sometime, I believe, that Siora Zanze (Angiola) . .
. was used to bring you your coffee . . . She stopped a good while
to converse with you, and I was afraid the cunning one would worm
out all your secrets, sir."

"Not one," I replied, in great anger; "or if I had any, I should not
be such a fool as to tell them in that way. Go on."

"Beg pardon, sir; far from me to call you by such a name . . . But I
never trusted to that Siora Zanze. And now, sir, as you have no
longer any one to keep you company . . . I trust I--"

"What, what! explain yourself at once!"

"Swear first that you will not betray me."

"Well, well; I could do that with a safe conscience. I never
betrayed any one."

"Do you say really you will swear?"

"Yes; I swear not to betray you. But what a wretch to doubt it; for
any one capable of betraying you will not scruple to violate an
oath."

He took a letter from his coat-lining, and gave it me with a
trembling hand, beseeching I would destroy it the moment I had read
it.

"Stop," I cried, opening it; "I will read and destroy it while you