property upon which he had foreclosed, if they should be able to pay
for it in ten years.

Soon after the visit of the snuffy expert, Volterra's agent informed
the porter that a gentleman had taken the small apartment on the
intermediate story, which had formerly been occupied by a chaplain but
had been disused for years. It had been part of the Conti's folly that
they had steadily refused to let any part of the vast building since
the old Prince's death.


On the following day, the new-comer moved in, with his belongings,
consisting of a small quantity of new furniture, barely sufficient for
himself and his one servant, and a number of very heavy cases, which
turned out to be full of books. Gigi, the carpenter, was at once sent
for to put up plain shelves for these, and he took stock of the lodger
while the latter was explaining what he wanted.

"He is a gentleman," said Gigi to Toto, that very evening, as they
stood filling their pipes at the corner of the Vicolo del Soldati.
"His name is Malipieri. He is as black as the horses at a funeral of
the first-class, and he is not a Roman."

"Who knows what race of animal this may be?" Toto was not in a good
humour.

"He is of the race of gentlemen," asserted Gigi confidently.

"Then he will end badly," observed Toto. "Let us go and drink. It is
better."