Leicester Square. Leonard saw him enter one of those small hotels which
are appropriated to foreigners. Wild, outlandish fellows were loitering
about the door and in the street. Leonard divined that the count or the
count's confidants were there."

"If that can be proved," cried Riccabocca, "if Randal could have been
thus in communication with Peschiera, could have connived at such
perfidy, I am released from my promise. Oh, to prove it!"

"Proof will come later, if we are on the right track. Let me go on.
While waiting near the door of this hotel, Beppo himself, the very man
Leonard was in search of, came forth, and, after speaking a few words to
some of the loitering foreigners, walked briskly towards Piccadilly.
Leonard here resigned all further heed of Leslie, and gave chase to
Beppo, whom he recognized at a glance. Coming up to him, he said
quietly, 'I have a letter for the Marchesa di Negra. She told
me I was to send it to her by you. I have been searching for you the
whole day.' The man fell into the trap, and the more easily, because--as
he since owned in excuse for a simplicity which, I dare say, weighed on
his conscience more than any of the thousand-and-one crimes he may have
committed in the course of his illustrious life--he had been employed by
the marchesa as a spy upon Leonard, and, with an Italian's acumen in
affairs of the heart, detected her secret."

"What secret?" asked the innocent sage.

"Her love for the handsome young poet. I betray that secret, in order to
give her some slight excuse for becoming Peschiera's tool. She believed
Leonard to be in love with your daughter, and jealousy urged her to
treason. Violante, no doubt, will explain this to you. Well, the man