in informing every one of the fact. You are the Marchese di San
Giacinto, and the inn at Aquila no longer exists."

"As these things must be done, once and for always, I have brought
my papers to Rome," answered the Marchese. "They are at your
disposal, for you certainly have a right to see them, if you like.
I will recall to your memory the facts of our history, in case you
have forgotten them."

"I know the story well enough," said Saracinesca. "Our great-
grandfathers were brothers. Yours went to live in Naples. His son
grew up and joined the French against the King. His lands were
forfeited, he married and died in obscurity, leaving your father,
his only son. Your father died young and you again are his only
son. You married the Signora Felice--"

"Baldi," said the Marchese, nodding in confirmation of the various
statements.

"The Signora Felice Baldi, by whom you have two children--"

"Boys."

"Two boys. And the Signora Marchesa, I grieve to hear, is dead. Is
that accurate?"

"Perfectly. There is one circumstance, connected with our great-
grandfathers, which you have not mentioned, but which I am sure
you remember."